


Definitely Unexpected

by unspoken_and_wild



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Home exchange, Meet-Cute, Summer Vacation, The Holiday AU, frozen jewel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-01
Updated: 2016-02-02
Packaged: 2018-04-18 13:12:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 58,494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4707194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unspoken_and_wild/pseuds/unspoken_and_wild
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Emma Swan, self-described "loner, loser, and complicated wreck" takes a much needed vacation from her New York City life by doing a home exchange with Liam Jones, a charming bartender from Brighton, England.  She could have never anticipated that what, or whom, she would find on her summer vacation was exactly what she had always been missing. (The Holiday AU, summer style)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was a summer project idea that I was kicking around for a while based on the movie “The Holiday”. I wanted to make it more of a summer vacation fic, and I realize summer is nearly over, so oops I wrote the thing anyway. Thank you immensely to my betas the-captains-ayebrows and lovemelikeapirate for their endless wisdom and insight. The exposition might be a little slow, but I promise things will pick up when we get to the meet cute(s). Overall though, I think we’re off to a great start!

Emma Swan trudged up the stairs to her 5th floor walkup, arriving at her apartment door. She fumbled with her keys and mercifully got the door open with what little energy she barely had left.  It was a miracle she made it home at all after the day she had.  She stepped inside and closed the door behind her by collapsing against it.  Her bag and keys fell to the floor with a clatter as she exhaled the deepest breath she had taken all day.

 

 _Workaholic.  Married to your job. Burnt out._ Her boss hadn’t said anything to her face that she hadn’t been thinking to herself already.  But by hearing these things out loud, it suddenly made them real and meant she couldn’t hide from them anymore.  She shuffled across the empty apartment, making her way to the kitchen.  The light from the fridge flooded her vision and she squinted at the sparse contents inside.  She grabbed the closest beer she could lay her hands on and dragged it with her to the couch, where she flopped down, reflecting on the events of the day and what she should do next.

 

_“Swan!  Get in here!”_

_He called her into his office after what had already been a long and trying day filled with scumbags, liars and general ne’er-do-wells. He couldn’t just use the intercom or email, he had to stand in his doorway and scream across the office like J. Jonah-frickin-Jameson._

_Emma closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, mustering whatever strength she could, before walking into a confrontation that by the sound of things had no prayer of going smoothly.  She squared her shoulders and walked into her boss’s office, prepared for battle.  She stood in front of his broad, cluttered desk and folded her arms, awaiting whatever fresh hell he was bringing to her today._

_The man looked at her, waiting for some prickly opening comment, but when it became clear that folded arms and a raised eyebrow were all he was going to get, he began.  “Can you please explain to me why the number of your clients that have broken noses and arms is greater than the ones that don’t?”_

_“Sir, I-” Emma began, but was immediately cut off._

_“And can you ALSO explain why you have the highest amount of collateral damage costs of any other bail bondsperson in this office?  Do you manage to break a piece of property on EVERY case?”_

_“That’s not-”_

_“Swan, I hired you because you’re great at what you do.  You read people.  You have the best record of any agent here.  But you’re losing your nerve! You’re of no use to anyone if you work yourself into the ground!”  Her boss continued to describe how her job performance, while yielding of results, was losing the tact and finesse that she had become known for.  After using a few choice phrases that sounded all too familiar to her own inner voice, he asked “When was the last time you took a day off?”_

_Emma couldn’t immediately recall.  It actually took a moment of thought. “Few weeks ago, I think?”_

_“You think? See, you can’t even remember.  I know this job lets you set your own hours, but that doesn’t mean you never take time off.  There is such a thing as work-life balance.”_

_What life, Emma thought to herself._

_“Look.  You need to take some time off.  Starting immediately.  You need to cool off and come back with a clear head.”_

_“BUT-” Emma began to protest._

_“This is not up for discussion.  You make this office a lot of money, so you owe it to the business and yourself to take a vacation. One week.  I don’t want to see or hear from you until you’re rested and can return with the magic that I know you’re capable of.  GO.”_

_Emma took a deep breath, ready to argue the mandate, but conceded that he was right.  She needed a break.  She turned on her heel and walked out the door._

 

So here she sat, on her couch in her tiny East Village apartment, the city lights providing an amber glow through the windows.  The place wasn’t much, but it was hers.  Well, hers and her roommate Elsa’s.  Elsa was a school teacher so she usually took the summer months to travel, visiting her folks and her sister. _I wonder what that’s like - family_ , Emma thought to herself.  She had always thought it would be impossible to feel alone living in New York.   _The city that never sleeps, indeed._  But, somehow she never felt more alone.  

 

Elsa helped.  She was a good friend and a kindred spirit.  Perhaps that’s why she threw herself headlong into her work in the summer.  She didn’t really have much of a life to balance out, so she filled it all with work.  But by burning the candle at both ends, she was losing herself.  It was time to find herself again.

 

Emma took a long pull from her beer and set it on the coffee table.  She pulled her laptop open and began brainstorming.

 

 _Where is the farthest away I can go in a week and still spend some meaningful amount of time?_ Living in New York afforded lots of fairly frequent and inexpensive options for direct flights,  especially for last-minute impulse fares.  She ticked around various travel sites.  She bounced a few ideas around in her head, everything from tropical islands to mountain adventures.  She decided she would take summer vacation at the speed that would suit her best, slowly and by the water.  She thought an island would be too isolated.  She was a city girl after all and needed at least some level of activity around.

 

Emma thought about the last vacation she went on.  A while back (a _long_ while), Elsa managed to pry her away from her work for a long weekend.  They rented a car and drove out to a bed-and-breakfast in the Hamptons.  It was fun to spend some time in a seaside resort so close to a major city.  Emma’s fond memories were few and far between in her life, so she deliberated how to replicate that feeling.   _Where else in the world can I visit a place like that?_ She remembered the lovely couple they met that owned the coffee shop they frequented every morning.  They were expats from the UK, and they always compared the Hamptons to Brighton.  Brighton sounded way more fun, though.  Hip shopping areas, funky bars and restaurants, and a world-class beachfront.   _Perfect. They speak English, I won’t need a car, and best of all, it’s an ocean away from here._

 

Emma was able to find an incredible last-minute flight from JFK to Heathrow.  She knew that these things had a tendency to go fast and she didn’t want to miss the fare.  Before she could talk herself out of it, she filled out the reservation information and clicked the _Purchase Fare_ button.  She was leaving in less than 48 hours.  

 

 _Now the task of finding a place to stay_.  Her cursory internet search yielded a result that immediately caught her eye, specifically the phrase _Stay for Free_.  She clicked the link, a website called AirSwap.  Emma had never heard of home exchange before, but the idea sounded intriguing.  After reading up, she learned that by listing your home, you can browse other listings anywhere in the world.  You correspond with other hosts and arrange to swap homes, cars, everything.  She was getting more excited about this idea by the minute.  Elsa was gone so her place would be empty anyway, and this way she could stay for free.  She loved the idea about staying in a home, loved and full of warmth.  It seemed much more appealing than whatever crummy hotel she could afford.  

 

It didn’t take long to create her listing.  Her place wasn’t very big and it was relatively tidy due to the lack of time she had spent there as of late.  She snapped a few pictures, filled out the descriptions, then got to her search.

 

She typed _BRIGHTON_ into the search bar.  A map popped up with little pins showing the listings.  She skipped over anything that used the words _central_ or _main street_.  The city didn’t seem very big and if she was going all this way, she definitely wanted an ocean view.  She had always felt more tranquil and calm by the water, though she never knew why.  She just knew that she wanted to look out a window and see a glittering sea spread out in front of her without a skyscraper in sight.  After scrolling through a few results, her eyes widened as she landed on one in particular.

 

 _Charming Seafront Home_. That sounded lovely.  She scanned the listing and latched on to a few key descriptors like _cozy_ and _sunny_ that made her more and more sure of this decision.   _Perfect.  This is exactly what I’m looking for._  Emma scrolled the listing to find the host.  She knew enough about vetting people that she wanted to get a sense of this person before she swapped her entire life with them.  The avatar picture of the host caught her completely off-guard with his striking crystal blue eyes.  He had a mop of curly brown hair and a warm smile.  The name read Liam Jones.

 

Emma read his bio and somehow got an immediate sense that he was trustworthy, honorable.  She wasn’t getting a _scumbag_ vibe at all.  He was a bartender, so he was sociable, but from what Emma could gather from his pictures, he was single.  The house looked nested and inviting, as if it had been lived in by a family for quite some time.  Uncharacteristic for a single man, but still she was convinced.  She clicked the button that read _Contact Host._

 

~~~

 

Liam Jones hung his keys on the hook by the door as he thankfully ended a very long night at the bar.  They usually closed up at 1:00 am, but this night the clientele was particularly rowdy and closing the bar was quite the process.  After wiping down every glass, bottle, counter and sink in the bloody place, Liam was pleasantly surprised that he was able to make it in the door before 2:30.  Bedraggled and exhausted, he made his way through the dark and quiet house toward his bedroom.  

 

He flicked on the light of the en-suite, about to reach for his toothbrush when an alert popped up on his phone.  The AirSwap icon popped up next to the words _1 new message_.  He tapped it to open the message and he couldn’t help but smile when the icon showed a blonde woman with enchanting green eyes and long, cascading blonde waves smiling back at him. Beside the message read the name Emma Swan.  
  


_I’m interested in renting your house.  Is it still available?  I’m wondering because if it is, you could be a real life saver. I know it’s ridiculously late to be asking you this, but if you’re at all interested, please contact me._

 

A smile crawled across Liam’s face.  He listed his house on a few different vacation rental websites, capitalizing on the benefits of living in a tourist destination.  He had hosted people from all over the world in that house.  Of all the alerts that could pop up on his phone, the ones that made him the happiest were from AirSwap, because that meant he got to travel somewhere new. He eagerly thumbed out a reply to Emma.

 

_I’m very interested.  Where are you?_

 

This was his favorite part.  His sense of adventure ignited, his heart filled with possibility.  

 

_New York City._

 

“New York!” Liam read aloud with excitement.  He grinned as he typed out his response.

 

 _Always wanted to go but never been.  I’m Liam, by the way.  I run a tight ship so the house is tidy, non-smoker_ (he paused before adding the last bit) _single._

 

Sometimes he over thought the impression he might be giving to female solo travelers.  He wanted to assure Emma the house wouldn’t be filled with children’s toys when she arrived, but also let her know he would be traveling alone to New York.

 

_I’m Emma. Must say, your house looks idyllic.  Just what I need.  I’ve always loved the ocean and your house seems so cozy._

 

Liam smiled at the compliment.

 

_Really?  Thanks.  What does your place look like?_

 

_Its nice, little smaller, but I think you’ll find the location spectacular.  The East Village is pretty funky, lots of artists and students.  No better New York experience, in my opinion.  Check out my listing for pics._

 

He didn’t even need to.  He was already convinced.  They chatted back and forth ironing out dates, arranged for keys to be picked up and made some good restaurant recommendations for one another. Liam excitedly typed out his final response.

 

_Okay, we are on! For a week, starting tomorrow!_

_Don’t you mean day after tomorrow?_

_It’s already tomorrow here.  Its nearly 3 am._

_Well I’ll let you get some sleep. Goodnight, Liam! And thank you._

 

The familiar excitement of the start of a journey was combating the need for sleep in this late hour.  His mind was abuzz with arrangements he would have to make, but it would all be worth it.

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

Despite his late night, Liam awoke alert and bright eyed, ready to make arrangements for his impromptu trip.  He grabbed his phone from the nightstand and started texting co-workers, most of whom seemed surprised to hear from him this early.  

 

Ordinarily, Liam barely got up in enough time for it to still be considered morning.  Normally he worked closing shifts at the bar, even offering to close for other people who had something called _lives_ to get back to.  As far as jobs go, he was okay being considered “married to the job”.  He got to meet interesting people, had fun while doing it, and the hours were long so he was always busy.  He was offered management positions from time to time, but he enjoyed the flexibility and social aspect of tending bar, so he always turned them down.  But, the staff knew he ran that bar like a well-trained crew.  Some even took to calling him _Captain_.  

 

Liam fired off a barrage of texts calling in favors to get his shifts covered for the next week.  It was the middle of the summer holiday, so there were more than enough uni students who were happy to pick up some extra shifts.

 

While he waited for texts to come through, he pulled up his laptop and looked for some last minute flights out of London.  He got incredibly lucky finding one that left in almost exactly 24 hours, so it meant an early morning departure.  He couldn’t pass up the deal so he booked it immediately, then sent off a few more texts.  He had friends in London that he could stay with tonight so it would be easier to get to Heathrow in the morning.  His adventure was beginning today.

 

In a flurry, Liam dashed about the room getting ready for the day, tossing clothes and other necessary items into his duffel bag, and began making arrangements for a houseguest he would never meet. He had a few little notes with instructions in various places, like how to work the coffee maker, television, etc.  He made up the guest room bed with fresh linens and checked to be sure there were clean towels in the en-suite.  There was an unmistakable hint of dancing in his step as he gave the house a quick once-over with a broom.

 

Liam took one last look at the place from the door as he slung his duffel over his shoulder.  Satisfied with his preparations, he locked it behind him and put the key under the doormat.  He began making his way to the train when it dawned on him. _Shit, I didn’t tell Killian I was leaving.  I’ll call him from the train._  

 

His little brother ( _younger_ brother, Killian never failed to correct him) worked at the marina, maintaining boats and taking tourists out on charter sails.  Liam tried to convince him to get a proper flat. There were many options nearby, but Killian lived for the sea, and was very happy living on his boat.  He argued that the rocking of the ocean was calming and he couldn’t beat the commute.  But with Killian’s early mornings at the docks and Liam’s late nights at the bar, they barely saw one another over the summer.  They were close, but they each had seasonal responsibilities.   By the time the tourist crowds thinned out they would have more time to see one another.

 

Finally settled on the train to London, he pulled his phone from his pocket and called Killian.  Unsurprisingly, he didn’t answer. After the outgoing message, he left his voicemail.

 

_Killian, it’s Liam.  I had a last minute AirSwap so I’m off to New York City for a week! I’m on the train now, I’ll let you know when I arrive.  The woman staying at the house seems very nice, but I don’t want you pestering her or disrupting her holiday, so the house is off limits for the week.  Try to stay afloat until I get back. See you soon, brother._

 

~~~

 

After several train transfers, an ungodly line at security and a gate agent that frankly could have been more polite, Emma was finally in her seat.  She was armed with reading material, a sleep mask and noise cancelling headphones, eager to start her vacation as soon as possible.

 

Emma tried to calculate the time difference in London so that she could either stay awake or try to sleep at appropriate intervals to combat jetlag, but it was no use.  After a few hours she finally gave up and decided she would just sleep it off when she got there.  She oscillated between reading, briefly napping between inflight movies and occasional interruptions for meals.  Finally, the captain’s voice came over the loudspeaker, concluding with those sweet words she’d been longing to hear.

 

“We should be touching down in London Heathrow in about 20 minutes.  Flight attendants, please prepare for arrival.”

 

Deplaning. Immigration. Baggage. Customs. It seemed like she had been in the country for hours before she even left the airport. She navigated through the terminal and made her way to the Underground station.  She took the Tube into London to begin her long trek by train to Brighton.  She didn’t mind trains.  It certainly beat driving and she didn’t have to manage a car.  She would have use of Liam’s car when she got there, but she doubted she’d even need that. After transferring at Victoria Station, she finally boarded her last mode of transportation before setting foot in Brighton.  Brighton was the end of the line, so Emma allowed herself to close her eyes as the train traveled due south.

 

Emma emerged from the station, her legs moving in the first meaningful way in hours.  It was still bright out, only afternoon, and Liam’s house was less than a mile away, so she decided to walk.  She was so excited to get acquainted with a brand new place, full of brand new people, breathing brand new air.  There was a distinct salty quality to the breeze on her face and she welcomed it deeply into her lungs.  She followed her pre-printed directions, identifying a few of Liam’s recommended landmarks along the way and finally spotted the address.

 

She looked up at the house.  The brickwork was obviously old, with a welcoming walkway bordered by small shrubs up to the front steps.  Emma immediately got a distinct sense of home.  Not hers, but someone’s.  Everything in New York had a transient sensibility.  Rented apartments, students rotating through town, artists moving in and out with the trends and flows of the neighborhoods.  This place felt like it had roots; like it was well loved.  

 

Liam’s instructions hadn’t failed her yet, and she found the key precisely where he said it would be.  She threaded it into the lock and turned it with a soft click.  She pushed the door open and her eyes lit up. She couldn’t help but gasp.  From the front door, you could see straight through the house to the back garden, glass bi-fold doors bringing the afternoon sun pouring in.  Everything inside had domestic touches of home that Emma never had, or at least not for very long.  Hand-woven rugs lay by the doors, framed needlepoints and watercolors of flowers lined the walls.  The furniture was old and solid wood.  Not outdated and purchased at a thrift store or yard sale like her stuff, but furniture that seemed to be well worn and in situ for as long as the house itself.  The kitchen table specifically echoed of many meals shared over love and laughter.

 

The house gave off a distinct sense of family, then Emma remembered Liam’s bio.  “Single?” she asked no one in particular.  There were no photographs anywhere, so she wasn’t able to paint a full picture. No matter.  If the aesthetic was meant to make guests feel welcome it was certainly working.  She meandered through the house, peeking in each door and finding more of the same touches. Everything was warm and soft.  She found the room that Liam indicated was the most spacious of the guest rooms, hers for the week.  

 

Emma slowly opened the door and her eyes landed on the bed, the most beautiful thing she had ever seen.  Not particularly extraordinary by nature, but with its white iron bedframe and light blue duvet adorned with a few simple pillows, it was the most appealing sight she could have imagined. After her seemingly endless hours of travel on her many legged journey, she couldn’t resist.  She dropped her bag and flung her body forward onto the bed with a squeal and relished the feeling of sinking into the marshmallow-like surface.  

 

She wrestled with the cost-benefits of getting up again to brush her teeth and change before surrendering to sleep and eventually concluded it was a good idea.  She wanted to cleanse herself of her “travel filth” so she could wake up refreshed and start her vacation clean and renewed.  

 

Emma entered the en-suite, which was larger than hers many times over, and couldn’t help but let out an audible, “Oh…” when she spotted the antique clawfoot tub.  It had a silver pipe emerging from the faucet, the shower head craned over the soft curtain that encircled the tub.  She chuckled at the image of herself taking a long, candle-lit bubble bath like a proper princess.  There would be time for that later, but sleep was calling her name and she was fading fast.  She showered and cleaned up, wriggled into her pajamas, and sighed as she nestled into the blankets, surrounded by everything soft within reach.  She was asleep practically before her head hit the pillow.

 

Emma snapped bolt upright out of her blissful slumber to a clamorous pounding on the door.  It didn’t sound threatening, but it definitely seemed insistent.  It was near midnight.  She registered that her pajamas didn’t consist of much coverage between the sleep shorts and thin camisole, so she snatched the throw blanket off the footboard and draped it around her shoulders as she padded towards the door.

 

She had been in enough precarious situations to know not to open a door until you know who’s on the other side of it.  But before she could call out to inquire, a voice rang through the door.

 

“Liam, open the door, you ponce.  I’ve forgotten my key.  Hurry up, or I swear I’ll take a piss right here off the-”

 

The opening of the door interrupted the voice mid-speech. The man standing on the front step whipped his head to meet eyes with Emma and instantly froze in place. She was struck silent and gripped the door for support as her feet suddenly had to relocate the floor. He had the same crystal blue eyes as she had seen in Liam’s picture, only younger.  His hair was darker, parted on the side and looking slightly disheveled like it had been tamed with naught but his own fingers. The scruff on his face perfectly framed his soft mouth, lips slightly parted in his shock.

 

Prior to opening the door, Emma assessed that the person on the other side of the door had quite the level of familiarity with Liam, and from his slurred speech she determined him to be slightly intoxicated.  She was able to hold her own against worse drunks that were a lot more ornery, so she took her chances.  But there was no way she could have prepared herself for what she saw.

 

“You’re not Liam,” the stranger spoke, “Or if you are, I’m afraid I’m much drunker than I realized.  I apologize for my crude language, lass, I wasn’t expecting…” he paused, searching for the right words while his eyebrows raised and his eyes quickly raked her barely blanket-wrapped figure, “...you.”

 

“Well, I wasn’t expecting you either,” Emma managed, through an intrigued smile.  Her eyes remained fixed on him, stunned.  Before she was capable of saying much else, he broke the silence.

 

“Would you mind terribly if I just…” he nodded towards the door.

 

“Oh! Right, you had to…” Emma opened the door so he could enter.  He smiled graciously at her as he entered and made his way to the powder room.  Suddenly remembering his manners, he turned around and stuck out his hand.

 

“I’m Killian, by the way.  Liam’s brother.”

 

“I’m Emma Swan. I’m staying here for the week,” she babbled quickly, her heart suddenly racing.

 

“Emmaswan?  Is that all one word?” Killian jested as he released her hand and closed the powder room door behind him.

 

“What? No. No, it’s not,” Emma scoffed.  As soon as the door clicked shut, Emma’s eyes immediately grew wide with the realization of her situation.   _Brother. Oh my God._ She did her best to smooth her undoubtedly unruly bedhead and straighten what little covering her pajamas and throw blanket provided.  

 

“So Liam...Where is…Where is he?”  Killian appeared to be fumbling for words as he flushed and emerged back into the hall.

 

“He didn’t tell you?”

 

“He could have, but I...oh.” Killian winced as a realization washed over him. “He did ring me yesterday, I didn’t listen to the message. I’ve been busy...busy with, erm,” he trailed off as his excuses fell flat and he realized how lame he must be sounding.  He had been working so much in the last few days that the moment he was finished, he went straight to either bed or, in this case, the pub, and didn’t bother to find out why his brother would have called.

 

“Well, that must have been about me.  Liam listed this house on a home exchange website and I found it.  He’s in New York at my place and I’m, well, here.  In my pajamas.”  Emma chuckled at the sheer ridiculousness of the situation.

 

“Well, I’d say I felt awful about not getting back to him, but then I may never have gotten the pleasure to meet you, lass,” Killian said through a wide grin.  

 

Normally smooth talkers and swagger started ringing alarm bells in Emma’s mind, but somehow his charm made her laugh, rather than raising her hackles.  She felt completely disarmed, like a schoolgirl whose crush was talking to her for the first time.  She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.  

 

“Do you want to, um, sit down?” she offered.  It seemed a bit odd inviting Killian to make himself comfortable in his own brother’s house, to which he evidently had his own key.

 

“Not ready to let me leave just yet?” Killian teased, as he made his way through to the kitchen table.  He pulled out a chair and practically fell into it.  “Probably best.  Not sure if I’ve got my sea legs back yet.”

 

“Are you going to be okay?” Emma asked, as she leaned against the kitchen counter, across from him.

 

“I’m fine, lass, I’ve been in worse shape than this,” Killian smiled.  “It’s just that on the rare, or at times not so rare, occasion that I find myself at the local pub round about closing time, and in my plastered state it would be unwise for me to stumble back to my boat, my brother puts me up.”

 

“I see.  Would you like something to drink?  Glass of water? Tea?”  She tried her best to not sound patronizing, and she didn’t really know what the house was stocked with, but she felt compelled to offer.

 

Killian pointed to the topmost cabinet. “I think there’s a bottle of rum up there.  Fancy a glass?”

 

It only took the briefest of moments for Emma to decide that having a drink with this handsome stranger in her pajamas was too appealing to pass up.  

 

“Sure,” Emma nodded with a smile, as she reached for the bottle.  

 

While her back was turned, Killian stood and entered the kitchen, grabbing some glasses from the cabinet opposite her.  Emma grabbed the bottle and turned, accidentally bumping into him, practically bouncing off of his hardened body. She emitted a startled “Oh!” as he turned towards her.  With two low-ball glasses in one hand, he threw his other arm around her back to steady her, as if by some chivalrous instinct.   _Wow, even one-handed he’s good_ , Emma couldn’t help but think to herself.

 

They each smiled bashfully and separated.  Emma worked on opening the bottle while Killian went to the freezer and produced a few ice cubes for each glass.  They stood at the kitchen counter as she poured them each a few fingers.  They lifted their glasses together with a clink.  

 

“Cheers, love,” Killian toasted, through a wide smile.

  
“Cheers,” Emma responded.  Looking at those glittering blue eyes and that smile that could stop a train, Emma knew right there that nothing on this trip was going to go as planned.


	3. Chapter 3

Killian and Emma moved to the garden with their drinks.  The night was too clear and the breeze too inviting to have their nightcap indoors.  “Ladies first,” Killian offered, as he opened the glass door and held it for her.

 

“Thank you,” Emma replied.  Killian’s manner was so refreshing from the men, no, people, that she was used to dealing with on a regular basis.  She had come to just assume that most people were selfish and brusque by nature if left to their own devices.  They had only just met, but already Killian regarded her with more decency than she had been shown by anyone in months.

 

They sat on a couple of vintage bistro chairs, each with a decently comfortable pale yellow cushion.  Emma closed her eyes for a brief moment and took a deep breath of night air.  Killian couldn’t peel his eyes off of her, drinking her in.  The moon faintly highlighted her delicate facial features, and her graceful form rose and fell with her breath beneath the blanket that now barely hung around her from the crooks of her elbows.  Killian’s heart was filled with intrigue.   _Who was this enchanting woman?  What brought her here? And alone?_  He thought about what on earth he could possibly say next.

 

“So, how’s it going so far?” Killian inquired, calling Emma back to attention, as he took a sip of his drink that Emma couldn’t keep herself from watching. Lost in a combination of his soft lips delicately perched on the rim of the glass and his tongue making its brief appearance between them as he finished the sip, she barely registered that he had asked a question.

 

“Uh...fine! Yeah, great,” she managed, blinking and trying to recover the conversational rhythm. “I haven’t really seen much,mostly just the walk from the train station to here and the inside of the bedroom, but so far its been delightful. You know, for an impromptu trip across an ocean by myself.  I really needed this.  More than I thought.”

 

Killian raised an eyebrow with an inquisitive look.  He was eager to learn more, but as she spoke, he registered something in her face that he faintly recognized.  She was weary. She was escaping.  Suddenly this surprising woman was starting to make sense to him.

 

“So, no traveling companions to join in your adventure? No one…” Killian deliberated over the backwards way he was trying to extract the information he was looking for, “...significant?”

 

Emma immediately perceived his meaning.  She waved her arms in the air in front of her, “Noooo, no. Definitely not. Not for…” She didn’t know why she immediately tried to put a time stamp on her last relationship.  It was an embarrassingly long time ago, and it was a time in her life she didn’t care to revisit.  She didn’t want to sully this beautiful night and spoil much more enjoyable company with those memories. “A while…” she finished quietly.

 

Killian could sense the hurt that hid behind her hesitation.  Things were starting to become more clear.  The look that flashed in her eyes when her mind darted to the past was all too familiar. Emma was becoming something of an open book.  He did her the favor of moving right past the moment and bringing her back to the present.

 

“Well, whatever has brought you here, I’m glad that our hospitality has made such a good impression.  I hope I haven’t managed to ruin it with my intrusion.  Again, my apologies, lass,” Killian tipped his head as if to bow. His gentlemanly nature seemed to be winning out over any innuendo and swagger he could have trotted out.  Something about this woman captivated him and damned if he was going to muck it up by making her uneasy. “So, would it seem bad form if I stay?  I promise to be gone before you even wake up.  I wouldn’t want to disturb a lady’s sleep beyond what I’ve already caused. If you’re not comfortable, I can-”

 

“No, yeah, that’s fine.  Sure, no problem” Emma stammered out.  She chastised herself for diving in possibly too eagerly with her response, but the words were spilling out of her mouth before she could stop them.  The very thought of Killian walking out the door just yet had to be quashed immediately.

 

“Thank you, milady,” Killian replied.  Emma couldn’t tell if his old-fashioned nature was inherited from somewhere or if he was just an old soul, but she knew he wasn’t patronizing her.  She could smell a phony act a mile away, but this man was genuine.  “I’ll just go grab a blanket out of the cupboard and make my way to the couch.”

 

The hour was getting late. Emma had, in fact, been sleeping upon his inebriated arrival, and he would be appalled if his unseemly intrusion caused her any further disruption. He stood to move inside, not wanting to overstay his welcome. She stood as well, seemingly agreeable to the idea.  He was thrilled that she allowed him to stay, but he was committed to keeping his agreed-upon distance.  They closed the door behind them and returned their glasses to the kitchen sink.

 

They didn’t do much but share a few glances and smiles as they exited the kitchen. Finally they reached the spot in the hall where their paths would diverge, Emma to her bedroom and Killian to the couch.

 

“Well, it’s been lovely meeting you. Goodnight, Swan,” Killian uttered, his voice a low murmur.  He took her hand and brushed a featherlight kiss to her knuckles.  He held her gaze as he did this and her mouth fell agape.  Before he could take a step in the other direction, she spoke.

 

“Do you think we could…” she paused and smiled with a coquettish chuckle, “Would you mind if we tried that again? Only…” She paused as if looking for the right phrase.  Emma was never the best at words, so what clicked in her mind was the only thing that made sense at that moment.  The blanket fell to her feet as her hands reached out to grasp the front of Killian’s shirt, pulling him close.  She kissed him deeply, crashing her mouth into his.  She was all at once exploding with need, wanting to consume him and not miss a thing.

 

At first his response was soft and tentative, like he couldn’t believe what was happening.  His mind didn’t allow him to question what a lucky bastard he was in that moment. All he could do was accept her eagerly and explore her in kind.  His fingers threaded his through her tousled blonde locks as they kissed.  It was unclear if her body was molding into his, or the other way round.  Perhaps they met in the middle, as if pulled towards each other by an inexplicable force.  

 

They broke for air, Emma’s grip lingering on Killian’s shirt as if for support.  As Killian caught his breath, he whispered, “That was….”

 

Emma didn’t even allow him to finish.  Her eyes fell as if she was speaking directly to his mouth.  “You know, given that I’m here to get away, and I find myself in a total stranger’s home halfway across the world…” She paused partly for breath, partly to collect her thoughts because she could feel herself beginning to ramble. “...and considering that you showed up and you’re, like, insanely good-looking,” She smiled as her eyes raked his figure, “I’m thinking we should have sex.”  As soon as her own words reached her ears, she realized how forward and possibly off-putting she sounded.  She quickly tacked on, “If you want.”

 

“Is that some sort of trick question?” Killian asked in jest, trying not to sound too incredulous.  Kissing this beautiful stranger was one thing, and he couldn’t imagine fortune would favor him in this way.  He cracked a joke to offer her an out, but subtly held his breath awaiting her response.

 

“I’m actually serious. Its just that this whole, knowing that you live on the other side of an ocean and I’ll never see you again is kind of exciting.  I mean, this is what a vacation’s supposed to be.  You’re supposed to vacate life, do the unexpected.  And you are,” she paused as she ran her hands up his chest and around his neck, “definitely unexpected.”  Her fingers traveled into the hair at the nape of his neck.  She breathed for a moment, eyes flicking between his eyes and his mouth.  She debated just kissing him senseless, but she waited for him to respond so that she was sure he was on board.

 

“You are quickly becoming one of the most interesting lasses I have ever met.  While I’m not sure how I feel about being the cabana boy, what kind of gentleman would I be to turn down such a request from a beautiful lady?”  A dashing grin spread across Killian’s face, and he moved to kiss her.  He slanted his lips over hers, cradling her cheek with one hand as the other traveled through her hair and down her back.  

 

Their parted lips barely brushed one another, before Emma slowly pulled away with the faintest of moans.  She slowly twirled out of his grasp and started making steps in the opposite direction of the couch.  She maintained eye contact with Killian through lowered lashes, her expression full of pure desire.  Her come-hither look made his blood boil, and he followed her lead into the bedroom.  

 

They barely made it on the other side of the door before their bodies found each other again.  They were a flurry of mouths and hands, filled with the need to explore one another completely.  Killian kissed down Emma’s neck and collarbone as he delicately pulled the strap of her camisole off of her shoulder.  Emma’s hands carded through his thick, dark hair.  Her whole body was on fire and she tried to remember to breathe between gasps and moans.  Her arms traveled down his strong, chiseled back as they reached the hem of his shirt.

 

They broke apart just enough for Killian’s shirt to get over his head.  His chest and shoulders were just as broad and firm as she had felt through his shirt.  Her mouth fell agape for a brief moment as she stood marvelling at his figure, blinking in disbelief.

 

“You sure about this, love?” Killian whispered.  

 

“I’ve never had to think about anything less,” Emma replied, barely finishing her sentence before kissing him again.  

 

~~~

 

Liam had traveled a lot of places in his life, but he could not have been prepared for the sounds that woke him the first morning in Emma’s apartment.  The groan of traffic , loud conversations of pedestrians and some sort of music (what was that, a sitar?) all sounded like they were passing directly through the bedroom.  Liam wondered if Emma woke up to this cacophony every morning.  Brighton was fairly quiet at his end of the street, and he wasn’t used to the activity, but it was the sound of a new experience waiting to be had.  Thankfully, he was exhausted enough from jet lag that he slept soundly through the night, so he was well rested.  

 

He looked around Emma’s room and noticed a few details.  There was little in the way of decor, not too many keepsakes cluttering up the space.  There was one small upholstered chair in the corner of the room next to her dresser.  Draped over the back of it was a small blanket.  It was white, handmade with a purple ribbon trim around the edge.  He could see the embroidered letters spelling out _Emma_ in cursive in the corner.  Beyond that, there was very little in the room that told him much about the spontaneous blonde that brought him here.  

 

The open windows afforded a decent crossbreeze and the temperature inside the apartment was comfortable for a summer morning. Liam didn’t bother with putting on anything more than a t-shirt and boxers.  He found his way to the kitchen and started a pot of coffee.  While he waited for it to brew, he took the time to grab a shower.  He closed the door behind him, though the place was empty and he didn’t really have a reason to do so.  Just good manners, he supposed.  

 

The hiss of the shower and the acoustically insulating nature of the bathroom prevented him from hearing keys jangling in the front door.

 

Elsa walked into the apartment with an exasperated sigh.  She heard the shower and the bubbling of the coffee maker. _Thank you, Emma_ , she thought to herself.  She was glad Emma was home, so she could tell her all about her trip back home and why it was cut short.  But first, she was very glad that Emma had the foresight to start the coffee before her shower.  She dropped her bags off in her room before darting eagerly into the kitchen to pour herself a much needed cup.  She fixed it the way she liked it and slid onto one of the stools at the kitchen counter.

 

The knob of the shower turned off with a creak.  Elsa waited until she heard the door open before she began talking.  She projected her voice so Emma could hear her from the kitchen.

 

“Hey, Em, just so you know, I came home early and I-” Elsa stopped short, frozen in place, as a very different figure than Emma’s appeared from around the corner.  In naught but a towel.

 

“Oh! I, um, excuse me, I...didn’t...um…” Liam stammered.  He gripped the towel hanging low around his hips to be sure it was secure, fumbling with his other arm for its optimal positioning.  He seemed to be oscillating between modestly crossing his arms over his chest or casually laying them at his side or on his hips.

 

A moment ago, the apartment was empty.  Now he was greeted by the soft voice belonging to the graceful vision sitting in the kitchen.  Her long, blonde hair threw him for a second, but he knew it couldn’t be Emma.  Despite the startling nature of their meeting, and his current state of undress, he was still compelled to be a gentleman.

 

“Apologies, lass.  Allow me to start again.  I’m Liam Jones.”  Liam firmed up his grip on his towel with one hand as he offered the other to Elsa.  

 

Astonished, she took it and replied, “Elsa.  Emma’s roommate.”  Normally, if Emma had evening guests, they rarely stayed until morning.  It was more common for Emma to go to someone else’s place, so she could slip out before they woke up.  She rarely brought people home, but after laying eyes on Liam, she couldn’t blame her.  He was tall, with broad, strong shoulders and a chiseled chest.  His eyes twinkled and his smile was warm, instantly putting her at ease.   _Girl has good taste._  

 

“Roommate?  Emma didn’t mention a roommate in the listing.  Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you, Elsa.  Would you mind, if I just,” Liam gestured a thumb behind him towards the bedroom, looking down at his towel.

 

“Yeah! No, of course...please, by all means…” Elsa sputtered.  She felt slightly guilty for undoubtedly staring.  As he disappeared into Emma’s room, she was filled with questions.   _Listing?  What on earth was Emma up to while I’ve been gone?  Online dating doesn’t really seem like her thing._  Still, by whatever means she had found Liam Jones, it was clearly worth it.

 

Liam returned in a well-fitting tee and some worn-in jeans.  He was still barefoot, so Elsa got the impression he wasn’t dashing out right way.  She’d be lying if she said she was disappointed.  

 

“Would you mind if I joined you in a cup?” Liam indicated toward the coffee pot.  

 

“Sure,” Elsa said with a smile.  He was refreshingly friendly, and his accented charm was not lost on her.  As he poured, she took the opportunity to gently probe for answers. “So you mentioned a listing.  Did you and Emma meet online?”

 

“Aye, in a way,” Liam chuckled, “She messaged me on AirSwap, and I’ve never been to New York.  I couldn’t resist.  So, she’s staying at my house, and I’m here while she’s away.”

 

Shocked, Elsa was flooded with a whole new series of questions.  She tried to gather her thoughts.  “So Emma’s not here?  She’s at your place.  On vacation. And where’s that exactly?”  

 

“Brighton,” Liam stated with a smile.  He blew on his coffee to cool his first sip.

 

“England!?”  Elsa asked incredulously.  “Emma’s in England, and you’re…” she paused, looking for an adequate descriptor, “...here.  How did she find you again?”  
  
“AirSwap.  Its a home exchange website where you switch houses to stay on holiday.  I’m sorry, she didn’t mention that you would be here.  Otherwise I would have not have been so…” Liam waved his hand over his form, only slightly embarrassed that their first meeting revealed more than first meetings typically should.

 

“Oh, no, its fine.  I didn’t mind, really,” Elsa couldn’t stop the words before they came tumbling out of her mouth.  She blushed and tried to recover. “Its not her fault.  I wasn’t supposed to be home for weeks.  But plans changed, things happened and oh, now I’m encroaching on your vacation,” she winced with the realization, “I hope you don’t mind.  I’ll be scarce, I promise.  You’ll barely see me.”

 

“Well, that would certainly be a shame,” Liam tipped his head in a gentlemanly bow.  He raised his coffee mug in a toast.  “To chance meetings.”

 

Elsa clinked her mug to his with a bashful smile. “So, Liam,” Elsa asked, struggling for words, “How are you liking New York?”

 

“It’s a bit loud, but it sounds like there’s quite a lot going on down there,” Liam answered, “I can’t wait to see more of the city than the inside of this flat,” He immediately heard how critical the words must have sounded.  He stammered, hoping to recover, “...which is lovely, by the way, I meant nothing by that, I really like it, it’s charming.”

 

Elsa seemed endeared by his bumbling speech.  He was normally so articulate, but the blonde sitting in front of him had him so enthralled that the formation of words was falling secondary to his attention on her alluring smile and her impossibly high cheekbones.   

 

“What do you have planned to do while you’re here?”  Elsa hoped she wasn’t pestering him.  She merely wanted to see if Emma had made any decent recommendations and if there was room for her to toss in a few of her own.  And, if that necessitated her accompanying him on his wanderings about the city, so be it.  Although her summer plans changed such that she arrived back in the city sooner than expected, her schedule was wide open.

 

“I dunno, really.  I figured I would just start in Times Square, grab a map and go from there,” Liam shrugged.  He really hadn’t fashioned anything resembling an itinerary.  

 

“I could make some suggestions if you like,” Elsa offered. She started thinking about all of her favorite restaurants, shops, parks. Halfway through rummaging in her mental rolodex of landmarks, she realized she was picking all of her favorite date spots. _Okay, chill out_ , she scolded herself, _Just because he’s not Emma’s doesn’t make him yours_. But god, the way he was looking at her sure made it seem like he already was.

 

“I’d like that,” Liam returned with a smile.  

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

Emma woke gently as the morning sun gradually filled the room with light.  She slowly blinked her eyes open and began to register her surroundings.  There was an arm that wasn’t hers under the pillow and another resting delicately around her waist.  She could both hear and feel slow, steady breathing on the back of her neck.  Details of the previous night were gradually coming back into focus.  Despite the fact that sex with Killian was, in fact, the best sex she has ever had (like, ever), a familiar voice cropped into her head, the one that usually made itself heard whenever she didn’t wake up alone. _Get out, get out, get out_ , her inner voice urged.

 

Emma carefully twisted and wriggled to extricate herself from Killian’s unconscious grasp.  The morning-after conversation was inevitable and she certainly didn’t want to have it while still entangled together in bed.  Her resolve would be stronger if she were on her feet and dressed.  With greater skill than she cared to admit, she successfully emerged from the bed without waking him. She padded around the room, dressing in the first t-shirt and pair of jeans she could grab from her suitcase, and silently latched the bedroom door behind her.

 

The kitchen was bathed in morning sunlight, but the warmth she felt was not entirely due to the seasonal temperature.  Emma set about the task of preparing her morning caffeine intake.  She filled the electric kettle from the sink and plugged it in. While she waited for it to heat up, she reflected on what she could possibly say to the exquisite man in her bed after that mind-blowing night.  She tried to quell her body’s traitorous craving for an encore of the last night’s activities and instead remind herself of her rule: _one and done_. That was her policy. Don’t get emotional or attached.  Not that those walls she had erected around her heart would let that happen anyway. Much as she denied building them in the first place, these defences had protected her and served her well over the years.

 

The kettle signaled it had boiled with a soft click. Emma selected a teabag from the jar on the counter, poured hot water over it, and soaked in it’s comforting aroma.  As it steeped, she worked on steeling her resolve. Lost in thought, she almost didn’t hear the bedroom door click open as she poured a splash of milk in her tea.

 

Killian slid into the kitchen, fully dressed in his clothes from the previous night, albeit a bit wrinkled from their time on the floor.  He clearly had attempted to tame his tresses with his fingers but from its disheveled state it still read as _sex-hair_.  

 

“Good morning,” he greeted her, with a satisfied grin.  

 

“Good morning,” Emma replied, returning the smile.  She took a sip of her tea, taking advantage of the brief hiding spot behind her mug to give herself a split-second pep talk. _Be strong, Emma. Just say it and be done.  Don’t get distracted._ “Do you want a cup of tea?” She wasn’t a complete ice queen.  She could offer the man some caffeine before launching into her string of excuses, deliberately designed to end with their amicable parting.

 

“I’m sorry, love, I just really have to-”  Killian gestured toward the door with his hand.  Emma appreciated his no-nonsense approach, getting right to the leaving, although she was expecting a bit more dawdling on his part. That smarted, just a tiny bit. Nevertheless, she was strong enough to make this quick and easy.

 

“Yeah, I understand.  You really don’t have to worry about a thing here.  I mean, it was great meeting you and everything,” Emma began to explain.  She took another sip, taking a much needed moment to assemble her thoughts.

 

“Definitely,” Killian replied.  He tried to sound casual, but there was an abruptness in Emma’s voice like she just might be _too_ okay with dismissing him.  Not wanting to overstay his welcome, he feebly continued with his excuse to leave. “I should probably be going.  I’ve got a lot of work to do today...”

 

“Oh, yeah.  You know, I gotta get going in a few minutes myself.”  Emma followed, trying to sound as convincing as possible about an itinerary that didn’t exist.  

 

“So, listen,” Killian began, reaching up and scratching behind his ear, “I know that you’re only visiting and absolutely not interested in getting involved, but just so you know, my life can be a bit complicated, and even if you were staying, you wouldn’t-”

 

“You really don’t have to do this,” Emma interrupted, quickly shaking her head, so as to acknowledge the emotional damage-control he was attempting.  “I mean, honestly, we hardly know each other”

 

“Well, I wouldn’t exactly say that, love,” Killian interjected with a raised eyebrow and a suggestive smirk. “But I just want to assure you, you’re better off.  I’m-”  
  


“It’s okay,” Emma stated conclusively, with a nod and a contrived, almost strained smile.  

 

“No need to go on, right. Well, I just want to be sure you _are_ okay because somehow, I have this tendency to be a bit of a scoundrel, and I would despair if I hurt you in any way.” It wasn’t like Killian hadn’t had his fair share of casual flings, but he couldn’t walk out of Emma Swan’s life without knowing she was content. He at least had a code of sorts when it came to women. Especially beautiful, intriguing American ones who proposition him over a bottle of rum.

 

“I’m _not_ going to fall in love with you, I promise.” Emma declared with a haughty laugh.  If _that_ didn’t end this conversation dead in its tracks, she didn’t know what would.

 

“Aye.  Nicely put. Thank you, milady,” Killian returned, hopefully sarcastically enough to conceal how her words made his heart sag, just slightly.

 

“No, I mean...” she clarified her meaning, “It’s just that I know myself.  I’m not sure I can even fall in love.  Not like the way other people do.”  It was an oddly timed confession, far too personal for a farewell conversation, and one she certainly hoped Killian wouldn’t delve further into.  She simply wanted to soften the impact of her harsh declaration.  The man had just given her one of the most electric nights of her life, she certainly didn’t mean to hurt his feelings.

 

“Well, like I said, Most Interesting Lass Award.  I have to say, your utter honesty is very refreshing.”  Killian tipped his head and smirked.  “Well, you probably won’t be hearing from me because even if you wanted, and you clearly don’t, I have the classic male problem of no follow-through.  Absolutely never remember to call after a date.  But since this wasn’t a date I guess I’m off the hook.”

 

“Exactly,” Emma affirmed. She took another sip from her mug.

 

“But what if I wanted to call you?” Killian inquired, much to Emma’s surprise.  She nearly choked on her tea, catching her almost spit-take with as much dignity as she could recover.

 

“Right, sorry.  Apparently not the right thing to say at all.  Well, if your plans change or if you change your mind, I’m having dinner with some friends at the Rose and Anchor pub tonight, and….” Killian trailed off, suddenly at a loss for all words one would use to ask out a woman, “If not, then, well…” More stalling, then finally Killian blurted out the last thing he needed to to say to Emma before he didn’t get another chance.  “...you’re lovely.”

 

“So are you,” Emma returned with a crooked but sincere smile.  It was the best she could do.  Her failure with words was compounded by his unexpected tenderness.  

 

Killian reached over the counter and gently removed her hand from her mug.  His lips barely dusted her knuckles, like if he kissed her hand too hard, he may never be able to let go.   

 

Emma lowered her lashes and she tried not to melt right there on the spot.  She kept her lips together tight and straight, holding back the impulse to press them into his one last time.  This was better.  It had to be.

 

He met her eyes once more, a parting glance to commit the last fine details of her features to memory.  He turned toward the door and slowly exited Emma’s life, closing the door behind him.

 

Finally, Emma let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding and allowed her forehead to fall toward the floor. _Well, maybe not your best morning-after performance, but mission accomplished._  Another man she successfully prevented herself from getting emotional over.  She nearly faltered with this one, but she was able to fall right into the practiced steps of her one-night stand routine.  

 

She gulped the last dregs of her tea and decided the best way to clear her head and properly start that vacation was to get out and see the sun.  Rinsing her mug in the sink, she returned to her bedroom. Averting her eyes from the rumpled bedclothes, she tried not to play back the sequence of events that gave them that quality.  She rifled through her bag for her bikini and a sundress to wear over it.  Quickly she changed clothes, grabbed her purse and with a towel shoved under her elbow, she was out the door.

 

Descending the front steps, Emma took a turn down the road.  According to Liam’s instructions, the walk to the seafront took less than 5 minutes.  The end of the street was only a few houses down, cross one main road and the beach was right there. His accuracy really was impeccable.  The beach itself was pebbly instead of sandy.  It was certainly easier to walk on and made for a massaging surface under her towel.  In one swift movement, she pulled her sundress over her head and stretched out, basking in the warmth of the summer sun.  The gentle lapping of the surf and seaside sounds of birds and beachgoers was a symphony.  She took a deep, cleansing breath of salt air and settled into her sunbathing.

 

The sensation of sweat forming on her glistening skin called to Emma’s memory a replay of the previous night’s encounter.  Her skin tingled reminiscing about Killian’s skin sliding against hers, their sweat commingling in their shared passion.   _God, get a grip, Emma_ , she chided herself.  She forced the thoughts from her mind by cracking her book, trying to escape even further than she already was, on that beach halfway across the world.

 

As lunchtime rolled around, she vacated her spot on the beach and embarked on an afternoon walk along the promenade.  The summer crowds were in full attendance.  The sidewalk cafes and bars bustled with tourists from all over the world.  Emma couldn’t think of anything more English to do than stop for fish and chips.  There were a few chip shop options, so she stopped at the one with the longest line, and was not disappointed.  She sat at a sidewalk table and people watched as she ate (absolutely not subconsciously looking for Killian’s dark thatch of hair among them).

 

Belly full, she continued her stroll down the promenade toward the Pier.  She stopped briefly to browse various galleries in the Artists’ Quarter.  After hours of wandering, her feet began to protest, and she turned back in the direction of the house.  If she was going to have to shower off the salty sweat coating of the day, she may as well take advantage of that lavish tub that she was so enamored with.

 

She kept the lights low in the bathroom and lit the few candles that were set on the small table beside the tub.  After the day she spent in the bright blazing sun, it was good to give her eyes a break and bring the ambiance down a bit.  She gradually descended into the steaming water, exhaling a deep sigh.  Submerged to her chest, she lifted her arms to rest on the curved rim.  Reclining her neck, she closed her eyes and lay her head against the towel roll she set out for herself.  

 

Then, just as all distractions were banished from her mind, thoughts of Killian crept their way back in.  His roguish grin. The twinkle in his impossibly blue eyes.  The feel of his scruff under her soft palm.  His firm hands’ grasp on her hips.  Her fingernails carving into his shoulders...

 

_Shit_.  Emma couldn’t seem to put Killian Jones out of her mind by force of will alone.  That much she could admit.  He was under her skin. She admonished that in order to fix this she clearly had to break her own rule.  Maybe it would take a little more work to get him out of her system, work that would be far from unpleasant.  She had to eat dinner, right? A pub seemed as good a place as any, right?  She could handle dinner with Killian. His friends would be around so if she reconsidered, she could make a graceful exit without leaving him completely abandoned. Really, it would be a good way to maybe meet a few more people in this town...

 

She lingered in the tub as long as she could justify.  As the heat of the water dissipated beyond excuse, she washed her hair and tidied up for the night.

 

She pulled up the directions to the Rose and Anchor on her phone before heading out of the house.

 

~~~

 

Killian threw his arm over his forehead to wipe the sweat from his temples on the sleeve of his t-shirt.  Having a job at the Marina had its perks, but today was one of those perfect summer scorchers that he would have much preferred to spend sailing.  He excelled at his job, but the downside of being a jack-of-all-trades is that there is always someone who needs something that you know how to do.  Several of the berth tenants had requested electrical or mechanical maintenance on their boats, one of the piers needed some cleats installed, and he was constantly interrupted by being beckoned away for impromptu docking assistance.

 

Still, the sweat on his brow, the sun on his face, and the wind in his hair was a feeling he savored.  He had a mariner’s heart, the sea was in his soul.  He felt liberated by the water, a single glassy plane that connected him with the rest of the world.  Liam was always giving him grief for living on his boat, but he wouldn’t trade his nights at sea for anything, even if he didn’t leave the dock.  

 

Killian’s boat was a suitable size for his lifestyle, large enough to live aboard but small enough that he could masterfully sail her alone.  The accommodations were modest, but it had electricity, fresh water, and enough space in the cabin for him to comfortably move around.  It got a little snug when he brought the occasional female guest aboard, but they never stayed long and were usually gone by morning.  Probably for the better.  His last meaningful relationship came to a tragic and premature end, and since then he hasn’t found himself in the company of a woman who had any lasting significance.  

 

Until last night.  

 

Even after a full day of working outdoors, he still couldn’t get the smell of her hair or the feel of her skin out of his mind. But it was what he noticed in her eyes, something deep and complex, that he had the hardest time shaking.  

 

He welcomed the evening hour as he was finally able to punch out.  A quick navy shower and a change of clothes and he was ready to head to the pub.  He was looking forward to hanging out with his mates, but he couldn’t say that they were the reason he took an extra moment or two to get ready.  He gave himself one parting glance in the mirror before closing the door to the head and ascending the ladder.  He locked the hatch behind him and disembarked.  It was a short walk to the Rose and Anchor, but every step toward even the chance of seeing Emma again seemed to take an eternity.

 

~~~

 

Emma drew circles in the condensation on the side of her pint glass with her finger.  She didn’t know what time Killian was supposed to be meeting his friends, but she didn’t want to miss him.  It was a cozy pub, lined with dark wood, the bar well worn from years of patronage.  Emma was content to nurse her beer while she scanned the crowds, wondering if Killian’s friends were already there.  She chose a spot within eyeline of the door so she only had to casually look up to see people walking in.  Nothing screamed the desperation of ‘I’m waiting for someone’ like whipping your neck around every five seconds to glance at the door.

 

Killian took a deep breath before pushing the pub’s heavy door open.  Standing in the threshold, he scanned the room.  He heard the faint calling of his name from a small group of people at one end of the bar, but they faded in the distance when he saw Emma’s green eyes meet his from her perch at the small high-top.  “Swan,” he whispered, as if her name carried itself across his lips with his own breath.  He grinned wide as he sauntered in her direction, eager to close the space between them as soon as possible.  

 

Emma was thankful for the dull chatter in the bar.  Without the noise, Killian would surely have been able to hear her heart pounding in her chest as he approached. She remained seated on her barstool, partly to look casual, partly because in that moment, she was unsure of her legs' ability to stand on their own.  He was wearing well-fitting jeans and a dark blue button-up shirt with the cuffs rolled up and unbuttoned a few buttons lower than she was prepared for.

 

“Evening, love,” Killian hummed.  The way the timbre of his voice curled around the words a sent a shiver down Emma's spine.

 

“Hi,” Emma replied brightly.  Killian didn’t miss how her tongue unconsciously darted out and moistened her lips before she spoke.

 

“I must say, while your pyjamas were quite flattering,” Killian paused to regard her ensemble.  “You look most lovely tonight, Swan.”  Emma had piled her hair in a loose bun on top of her head, elongating her neck with poise and grace worthy of her namesake.  The sweetheart neckline of her black dress struck the perfect balance between tasteful and provocative.

 

“Thank you.  So do you,” Emma blushed. She was thankful for the bit of suntan she got during the day for its ability to conceal the flush forming in her cheeks.  “Did you say you were meeting friends here?”

 

“That’s them over there.  Come on, I’ll introduce you.”  Killian considered really laying on the charm and offering his elbow to her, but he didn’t want to overdo it. Instead, he settled for resting his hand on the small of her back as she stood, unable to resist touching her in some way.  They walked toward the small clique at the end of the bar, all of whom were fixated on their little exchange with matching intrigued, excited smiles.

 

“Emma, this is Belle, Will, Robin, David, and his wife Mary Margaret.  Everyone, this is Emma Swan.”  Killian could barely keep from beaming as Emma courteously made her round of handshakes and nice-to-meet-you’s.  

 

“Could anyone use a drink?  First round’s on me,” Emma offered.  The group affirmed warmly and Emma bellied up to the bar to order pints for the group.

 

Will leaned over to Killian, out of view and earshot of Emma. “Oh, I like her,” he nodded in approval.  

 

~~~

Liam had always regarded himself as an exceptional navigator, and he was no stranger to the London Underground, but the MTA was a different animal.  He was thankful for Elsa’s company (for more reasons than just her mastery of the subway).  She artfully threaded them through the crowd up the stairs of the Bowling Green station and across Battery Park.

 

“I know it's such a touristy thing to do, but if you haven’t seen the Statue of Liberty in person, it really is unlike anything else,” Elsa delighted. “I rarely come down here unless I’m bringing someone from out of town.”

 

“Well, I appreciate the escort, milady,” Liam nodded.  The weather couldn’t have cooperated better.  It was warm and clear, sun glistening off the water beyond the park, barely a few puffy white clouds perched in the sky.  On a day such as this, it would have been a shame to experience this alone.  He stole a glance at his serendipitous companion.  The combination of her elegant features and statuesque posture, even the way she seemed to glide as she walked, was downright regal.  He couldn’t help but be in awe of her.  Her wide eyes expressed untold depths, and made him eager to explore.

 

The two boarded the ferry to Liberty Island.  In all his travels, Liam always felt a certain ease wash over him on the water.  He never tired of that feeling of freedom that accompanied stepping off of a dock and onto a vessel.  Even a robust ferry, not particularly extraordinary by nature, offered the unparalleled breeze on his face and soothing sounds of waves against the hull while underway.  Sometimes Liam felt a pang of jealousy towards Killian and his seafaring lifestyle.  But in this moment, he couldn’t help but feel like he was exactly where he was supposed to be.

 

“Do you want to go up?  It’s so nice out.  And you can’t beat the view,” Elsa suggested, indicating to the stairs to the upper deck.

 

“Lead on, lass,” Liam replied.  

 

Elsa lead them up and found an open spot along the railing.  She leaned her forearms on the railing and took a deep breath, gazing outward toward the island.  She must have looked inordinately interested in the view, but really she was trying to fixate on something other than Liam.  His arresting good looks paired with his noble demeanor were so captivating, it took all the effort she had to not stare.

 

As the ferry crossed the Hudson, Liam braced his arms on the rail beside Elsa.  He was glad that she was too focused on the landmark ahead to notice that he hadn’t glanced at the view once.  Her hair was plaited back in an effortless braid, but he couldn’t help but watch the few rogue pieces that danced across her forehead in the wind. He was glad he hadn’t planned an itinerary for this trip; he would have thrown it directly out the window just to spend whatever time he has with her.

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

The next morning, it was Killian’s turn to wake first.  Emma’s tranquil form nestled in the bed beside him was almost enough to make him stay put.  His pulling desire to brush her tousled locks from her face or trace her spine with his fingers fell by the wayside when he considered that would probably result in waking her from sleeping twice since they met.  As stealthily as he could, he climbed out of bed and gathered his clothes from from the breadcrumb-like trail in which they were strewn on the floor.

 

He reciprocated Emma’s tea preparation gesture from the previous morning in kind, starting the kettle to boil.  Before the water even came to temperature, he heard the sound of inelegant stumbling towards the kitchen, accompanied by the softest of groans.  As Emma crossed into the kitchen, she braced her hand on the doorframe to steady herself.

 

“I haven’t had that much to drink...in...” Emma paused, partially to catch her breath, partially because her memory recall was on a slightly delayed response.  “Oh, what am I saying?” she pleaded at the ceiling.  Her hands flew up to her eyes and dragged up her forehead to her hair as she concentrated embarrassingly hard. “I’ve _never_ had that much to drink.”

 

“Aye, I believe no one ever has,” Killian replied with a blend of empathy and amusement.  He was no stranger to the hangover himself, but in his sober state, he was endeared by this rare candid moment of vulnerability from the previously unflappable Emma Swan.  Her camisole was askew and her rumpled shorts looked like it took more than one attempt to get one leg in each hole.

 

Emma staggered further into the kitchen, inhaling deeply and gathering her thoughts.  “Okay, the last thing I remember was coming in here last night and...”  Emma’s eyes scanned the route from the front door, mentally retracing their steps.  Her eyes bulged when they eventually landed on her bra, which was indelicately slung over the back of one of the kitchen chairs.  She gasped, appalled, and snatched it up in her hand.  “Oh, oh. Oh my god…”  she stammered, embarrassment blooming across her face.

 

“I had nothing to do with that, love,” Killian smirked.  

 

“Oh, I know but you were here...” Emma whined, mortified.

 

“Aye, that I was.”  Killian’s cheeky grin was not meant to come at Emma’s expense.  He was just too thoroughly amused by his own recall of the evening, which was much more highly detailed than Emma’s.

 

“Oh, God. So, I guess we…um...” Emma trailed off, unable to articulate through her humiliation.  “Did we...I mean, did we…”  She fumbled her hands in a series of gestures, suggesting her meaning.  She winced, anticipating his affirmative response and the awkward conversation that would ensue.

 

Killian simply shook his head reassuringly.

 

“We didn’t?” Emma replied with surprise.

 

“We did not,” Killian affirmed.

 

“Oh, thank God,” Emma exhaled, slightly more relieved than Killian would have preferred.  Emma saw his eyebrow raise and threw up her hands to backpedal.  “I mean, not ‘thank God’, but just thank God.  Because I didn’t remember…”  Emma didn’t have a tendency to black out from drink, so she was concerned for her missing memory.  She was having a hard time grasping a scenario where sharing a bed with Killian would _not_ have ended with them being intimate.  “So why didn’t we…?  Just, remind me a little.”

 

Killian chuckled at Emma’s struggle, now starting to feel a little guilty at how entertained he was.  “Call me old-fashioned, but one doesn’t have sex with women who are unconscious.”

 

“Unconscious?” Emma retorted, incredulous. “Oh, God. _That_ must have been really attractive.”  Emma plopped into the chair that once served as a perch for her bra and lay her head in her hands on the table.  “Why did you stay?” she chuckled in disbelief.

 

“Because you asked me to,” Killian replied with an unexpected tone of sincerity.

 

Emma raised her eyes to meet his.  More details of her actions gradually coming back to her.  “I did, didn’t I?” she breathed through a wince of realization.  Emma closed her eyes, focusing on summoning the sequence of events. “Did I...beg...at one point?”

 

Killian chuckled, offering her the dignity to neither confirm nor deny.  “From the moment I met you, it’s been an adventure.”

 

“And I am deeply sorry about that.  I have nothing to say for myself other than I must be temporarily nuts right now.”  For the first time, the full scope of the last 2 days was dawning on her.  In less than 48 hours, she had flown across an ocean, plunked down in someone else’s house, and spent two nights with the same man.  A man whose life she had foisted herself upon, uninvited, and without prospect.  They didn’t even have sex the second night, which means she made enough of a fool of herself that he felt compelled to stay.  She would deal with her own emotional repercussions later.  Now, she strategized how to walk away from the situation with as much of her dignity as she could salvage.  

 

Killian had turned to prepare two cups of tea while she sat wrestling with her thoughts.  He recalled the previous morning, how evasive and dismissive she was.  He was concerned that this morning, without post-coital satisfaction and with the added obvious embarrassment, she would pull away again, and he would be forced to walk out the door, alone, a second time.  He interrupted her concentration, abrupt enough to catch her off guard, but gentle enough not to exacerbate her unmistakable headache.  “I think we should go sailing,” Killian proposed, soundlessly setting a mug in front of her.

 

“What?” Emma lifted her head, a bit too swiftly to keep from grimacing.  Of all the things she expected Killian to say to her in that moment, an invitation to spend more time with her didn’t even make the list.

 

“Affinity as I have for your pyjamas,” Killian eyed her appreciatively, “I think you should get dressed.  We should pack a picnic lunch, spend the day sailing, and get to know each other.”

 

“Really? Why?” Emma retorted, bewildered.  

 

“Because I can’t fancy a reason why we shouldn’t. Can you?” Killian asked, a question he prayed she didn’t have an answer to.  Her reply came in the form of a soft smile as she blew on the surface of her hot tea.  He locked eyes with her as she sipped and that was confirmation enough.  “Aye, then it’s settled. I’ll pull together some picnic items while you go get ready.  Liam usually has some decent munchies stashed around.  We can pick up some sandwiches from this great place I know on the way to the marina.”

 

Emma rose from her chair cradling her tea in her hands, visibly more relaxed than she had been before.  “Okay, I’ll be right back.  Thanks for the tea,” Emma murmured through a bashful smile that she was helpless to hold back.  She kept her eyes firmly fixed on her feet as she retreated to the bedroom.  She was sure in that moment if she looked Killian in the eyes as she walked past him, she would never make it out of his arm’s reach.  She had to show enough self-restraint to at least make it out the door so they could leave. To go sailing. On his boat.

 

It’s not like she hadn’t been on dates before. They just usually weren’t preceded by two consecutive nights in bed with the person before it took place.  She was flying blind with Killian, acting on pure instinct.  She squelched the uncertainties that kept flitting through her mind as she gathered her clothes.   _What can you possibly hope to accomplish?_ She'd probably need her bathing suit.   _To what end was this all headed?_ It was definitely going to be hot so she chose a lightweight tunic to wear with her shorts.   _Stop all this before you get hurt._ She headed to the bathroom to brush her teeth and put on maybe a touch of mascara.   _Nothing good can come from this._ She pulled her hair back in a messy ponytail and left to rejoin Killian in the kitchen.

 

The insistent nagging of doubt and double-guessing instantly fell silent when she emerged back into the kitchen. Killian was sitting at the kitchen table with a proper picnic basket, one that looked like it had been swiped from Red Riding Hood herself.  His eyes were lowered to his phone, patiently awaiting her return.

 

Something about Killian instantly put her at ease, like she had never been more sure of anything in her life. She didn't have to think with him. Her heart and her body knew exactly what to do.  

 

As if sensing her presence, he looked up to meet her gaze. "Just checking the tides, love. I think the timing will work out perfectly for us today.  Ready to go?"

 

“Yeah,” Emma grinned, “Lead on, _Captain_ ,” she teased.

 

The walk to the marina wasn’t long. The fresh air actually worked wonders, banishing all remnants of Emma’s hangover. During the walk, Killian occasionally pointed out landmarks of significance, not necessarily to Brighton but to him.  His favorite coffee shop. The best chippy in town. The spiciest Indian food he’s ever had.  

 

Killian led them to a sandwich shop on the way, as promised, to supplement the snacks he had procured from Liam’s pantry.  The bells on the door jingled as they stepped inside.  A woman behind the counter looked up and upon seeing Killian’s smiling face, planted her fists firmly on her hips and tipped her head to the side, like she was about to issue a scolding.  Her grey hair was neatly pinned back and her reading glasses were perched precariously on the end of her nose.  A delicate chain kept them around her neck as she took them off before addressing him.

 

“Well, look what the cat dragged in,” the woman chided.

 

Emma slowed her step, shocked by the woman’s brass.  Killian, on the other hand, was clearly amused and almost endeared by the woman.  

 

“Oh, come now, Madam Lucas, you can’t honestly say that you’re not happy to see me?” He continued his approach toward the counter, unfazed.

 

“Exactly, Killian, it’s been too long! Did you suddenly find someone’s food you like better than mine?”

 

“I refuse to believe such a place exists,” Killian replied, with a raise of his eyebrow as he leaned his elbow on the counter.

 

“I thought so.  And how many times have I told you, call me Granny,” she rebuked, but as she did so, her face visibly softened.  She dropped her aggressive facade and her obvious affection for Killian shone through. “What can I get the pair of you?”

 

Killian looked over at Emma, then glanced at the menu on the wall behind the counter  “Do you know what you want, love?”

 

_What a question._ “Well, normally, I’m a grilled cheese girl, but if we’re taking these to go, probably get something that will keep.”

 

“I’ll have to remember that,” Killian noted.

 

They ordered their food, and Granny quickly produced a couple of paper satchels over the counter.  Before either Emma or Killian could fish out their wallets, the old woman held up her hands.    
  
“On the house.  Consider this incentive to come see me more often.”  She was cheeky. Emma liked her.

 

Killian thanked her warmly.  He and Emma made their leave and headed toward the marina.  It was only a few more blocks before the quay appeared in the distance.  The waterfront was teeming with life, offering a range of shops, restaurants, and other entertainment offerings.  But none of the surroundings interested Killian as much as the array of masts that could be seen towering above the docks ahead.

 

He escorted her down the dock, waving to the many evidently familiar faces that greeted him as they passed.  Emma noticed how at ease he was, how in his element he seemed.  It was endearing how comfortable and in command he was in this environment.  They walked past powerboats, luxury cruisers and sailboats ranging widely in size and type.  Killian slowed as they approached his berth.

 

“This one’s yours?” Emma asked.  His answer came in the form of one large step off of the dock onto the deck, then turning to her proudly.

 

“My ship? Of course, love.  Boarding any vessel than my own, that would make me a pirate,” Killian jested with a wink.

 

Emma glanced at the stern.  The name of the boat was painted on the transom with flourished script. The _Jolly Roger_.  “You can see how I might have gotten that idea.”

 

“Point taken,” Killian regarded his boat again as he spoke, “She’s a marvel.  We weathered many a storm together, seen many strange glittering shores.”  Killian offered his hand to help Emma step aboard from the dock.  Emma rolled her eyes and smiled at his colorful speech as she took his hand.  She was charmed by how proud he was, and considering that by this gesture he was also sharing his home with her, she didn’t mind a bit of puffed-up bravado.  

 

“What do you say we set sail?” Killian was practically bouncing with excitement.  He was so glad for this perfectly-timed day off of work.  The sky was clear and the sun cast a beam of glitter on the water’s glassy surface.  It would have been a shame to spend such a day on land.  And with his present company, Killian could not imagine a more perfect day.

 

“Ok.  Where should I put the lunch stuff for later?” Emma asked, minding the basket containing their provisions.

 

“Down below. In the galley, uh, kitchen.”  Killian unlocked the hatch to allow Emma access.  Emma descended the short ladder and gasped in awe of the cabin below.  The interior was immaculate, lavishly lined in teak and in excellent shape for the age of the boat.  As bachelor pads go, it was nicer (and in a few cases, bigger) than some of the apartments she’d seen in New York.  She tucked the sandwiches in the small refrigerator and secured the basket with the dry snacks where it wouldn’t slide around while underway. She noticed the rest of the interior, a small bench and eating area, some shelves and cabinets.  At the front of the cabin, she saw a door, slightly open, through which she caught a glimpse of Killian’s bed.   She tried to linger on thoughts of the particulars of the cozy space, but it was going to be a long afternoon so she put her curiosity aside for the time being.

 

Making all the necessary preparations, Killian tasked Emma with tossing the bowline on the dock when they were ready to pull out of the berth.  From his spot at the wheel, he took one last indulgent glance at her up on the bow, blonde hair and airy blouse billowing in the wind, legs that went on for days.  He started the small motor then gave her the signal to cast off.  She tossed the line with expert precision and walked astern to the cockpit to join him.

 

When they emerged into the open water of the Channel, Killian deftly pulled and secured a series of ropes and winches that Emma didn’t know the names of, and when the sail was in place, he cut the engine.  The serenity that washed over Emma was indescribable.  Being under sail was like no other feeling, the only sound the gentle breeze and the water rushing past the hull.  To be completely at the mercy of nature, even in the expert hands of a more than capable sailor, was liberating in a way that Emma had never experienced.  

 

They stayed close to the shore.  Emma marvelled as Killian expertly managed the ropes and pulleys to adjust the sail to the wind, a process he informed her was called tacking.  It was as if the ship was an extension of himself.  She would offer to help, but he was so clearly accustomed to sailing the vessel alone, she thought she would only impede the process.  After a bit of blissful cruising, Killian proposed they anchor for lunch.  

 

Confidently, he steered the Jolly Roger into a cozy little anchorage and brought the mainsail down.  As they slowed to a drift, Killian skittered up to the bow and dropped anchor.  As Emma was gathering their lunch provisions from the galley, he descended the ladder to join her.  

 

“Fancy a picnic on the bow?” he asked.

 

“Perfect,” Emma replied.  Killian opened a few cupboards here and there and produced a blanket and some plates and utensils.  She tried not to notice how fluidly they moved around each other in the small space, or how endearingly domestic their preparations were.  They laid out their lunch in the open air and not having realized how hungry they were, dove eagerly into their sandwiches.

 

When enough of Emma’s sandwich had been consumed to put her hunger pangs at bay, she decided to begin the ‘get to know each other’ portion of Killian’s date proposal from this morning.

 

“So, you work on boats.”   _Probably a safe place to start._

 

“Aye, I do,” Killian replied.

 

“And what sort of work do you do?”

 

“All sorts, whatever needs to be done at the marina.”

 

“And what did you study in school?”

 

“Maritime Studies.”

 

“And did you always know this is what you wanted to do?”

 

“Lass, my palms are starting to sweat. I feel like I’m at a job interview. Do you, by any chance, know how to be on a date?” Killian chided with a smile.  

 

Emma closed her eyes with a tight lipped smile. “Sorry, I’m interrogating you.”  
  
“That you are,” Killian chuckled, no worse for the wear.  

 

“I haven’t been on a first date in a long time,” Emma tried to excuse her behavior by admonishing herself, but Killian only found her discomposure more adorable.

 

“Well, since we’ve already had sex once and slept together twice, maybe we can bend the first-date rules,” Killian murmured low with a wink. “Why’ve you gone red?”

 

“I didn’t realize I was blushing. I think you make me nervous.” Emma paused, her confession blurting out before she could stop it. Something about Killian brought the truth straight to the surface and all her usual ploys and safeguards fell by the wayside. She shook her head, rolled her shoulders and composed herself. “Okay, I’m gonna try to be myself.  It’s never easy, but I’m gonna try.”

 

Emma fixed her gaze on Killian, allowing him his turn to resume the conversation.

 

He vaguely realized he should probably say something but was momentarily lost in Emma’s emerald stare.  Realizing he must look like a gasping fish, he stammered back into the exchange.

 

“What was the question again? Oh, right. Did I always want to work on boats? The answer is yes.  My family has always lived by the water so I practically grew up on them.  I’ve always felt like I belong at sea.  Liam keeps trying to get me to move, but the Jolly Roger is my home.  She wasn’t much but salvage when I bought her, but over time, I fixed her up and got to know every inch of her.  Sometimes, I swear, she could just fly.”

 

There was a wistful tone in Killian’s voice that captivated Emma.  He was so passionate, and not just about his boat, but his strong connection with the sea.  She admired him, someone whose roots ran that deep.  “Okay, I believe my time is up. Your turn, love.”

 

“Really?” Emma stopped for clarification, giving him an out before opening this particular can of worms.

 

Killian hummed with an assured smile, “Deep breath, Swan,” he encouraged.

 

“Okay.” Emma exhaled deeply.

 

“All right?” Killian wondered what could be causing some trepidation.  He was slightly concerned, but more curious than anything.

 

“Yeah,” Emma confirmed with a terse smile.  “Well, like I said the other night, I’m a bail bondsperson. I catch scumbags who skip out on court dates, child support, things like that.”

 

“And what about your family?”

 

Emma closed her eyes and dug deep. “Okay, I’ll say it fast. Um, I was dropped off at a firestation when I was a baby, and I grew up in the foster care system.  I moved through a few families as a kid, but I always got sent back.  Either they got pregnant with a baby of their own, or just changed their mind about kids, but no one ever kept me long.  But when I was 15, there was this one family. The Swans. They took me in and for the first time ever, I felt like I belonged.  Like a real family.”  Flashbulb memories passed through Emma’s consciousness, ones that had been long buried.  Getting ready for school. Bag lunches packed with love. Warm conversations around the dinner table.  Movie nights on the couch with a big bowl of popcorn.

 

“Then, one day, they cornered me in the kitchen.  They asked me all sorts of questions about a friend of mine who they didn’t like.  She wasn’t a model kid, but she was my friend, and I didn’t have many of those.  But they were so quick to judge me by her actions that they let that tarnish our entire relationship.  They sent me back the next day.” _And people wonder why I have trust issues,_ Emma mused to herself.

 

“I think I cried myself to sleep for, like, well...anyway, a long time.  And then I realized that I’d better toughen up.  And, well, I got through it and sort of haven’t cried since.” Emma paused, giving the conversation room to breathe.  “And that’s my tragic little story.  Do you want some pretzels?” Emma reached into the basket.

 

“Wait. You haven’t cried since you were 15?” Killian asked in disbelief.

 

“I know it must mean something awful. I know, but…you know, I try...believe me.  But can we talk about you some more, please?” Emma pleaded in spite of herself.

 

“Okay. Yes. Absolutely. Well, _I_ cry all the time.”

 

“You do not,” Emma rebuffed skeptically.  
  
“Aye, I do.  More than any lass I know,” Killian insisted.

 

“You don’t have to be this nice,” Emma didn’t want pity, didn’t want to be coddled because of her emotional soul-bearing.  
  


“It happens to be the truth.”

 

“Really?”

 

“A good book, a great film, a birthday card, I weep.”

 

“Shut up,” Emma chided with soft smack to his arm.

 

“It’s true! Wear my heart on my sleeve, I do,” Killian confessed with a cheeky grin.

 

They finished their lunch over warm, bubbling conversation.  The ice seemed to have been broken.  They chattered away with a familiarity and comfort that was unusual for knowing a person for less than 3 days, but it seemed as natural as breathing.  Emma would reach out to touch his arm warmly.  Killian’s eyes would sparkle as his hand repositioned her hair behind her shoulder and away from her neck.  They flirted all through the afternoon, but not in such a sexually charged manner as to obscure the genuine affection that was growing between them.

  
~~~

 

After spending only a day with Elsa, Liam couldn’t imagine seeing New York any other way.  More than just checking things off a sightseeing to-do list, which is what he would have done alone, she made him look at things in a whole new way.  She indulged his enthusiasm for history with narratives and anecdotes not printed on any placard.  He was learning so much about the city, but also about her.  He mused about how lucky her students were to have her as a teacher, a guide with such vivacity and passion.  She had a deeply compassionate spirit, like she stepped into another time when she spoke of its people, its stories.

 

Their previous day had ended over a quiet dinner at a hole in the wall restaurant in Little Italy.  True to Liam’s experience, the best places to eat tended to be unassuming and off the beaten path.  Elsa’s suggestion had been no exception.  In addition to the phenomenal food, it had the added bonus of being dimly lit, complete with candles on the tables, bathing her in a romantic glow across from him.  It was everything he could do to not bump knees with her under the small table, a closeness that had him imagining what her foot may have felt like ghosting along his ankle. The meal transpired without physical contact, but as they left the restaurant and stepped into the night, he offered his elbow in escort.  Elsa looked up, at first unsure of the sincerity of the antiquated gesture. Upon finding a sparkle in his eyes that she couldn’t resist, all doubts were erased from her mind, and she gladly threaded her arms through his. They returned to the apartment, and Liam bid her goodnight as they retired to their rooms.

 

Liam flopped down on the bed and ran his fingers through his brown curls, reflecting on his incredible luck.  He expected to spend this trip alone, wandering and exploring, but he would argue that he stumbled upon the best thing about New York before he even left the apartment. Elsa was unlike anyone he had ever met. He was stunned by her beauty the moment he laid eyes on her, but the more time they spent together, he was fascinated by her intellect, constantly stimulating and challenging him.

 

The next day, inspired by Liam’s love for history and culture, Elsa decided the next stop on her guided tour of the city had to be the Metropolitan Museum of Art. She almost skipped it entirely, assuming that it would pale in comparison to The British Museum or other institutions that Liam would no doubt have visited. But in planning the day’s agenda over breakfast, he seemed keen to the idea.

 

The way Elsa spoke of the Met was so enthusiastic and inspiring, Liam would have gone with her to watch paint dry if he could listen to her impassioned explanation about it. He was no stranger to world class museums, but this was one he certainly didn’t want to miss with Elsa by his side. When they got out the map, he was even more delighted to see that the most efficient train was on the opposite side of Central Park from the Met. Starting the day with a stroll through the park couldn’t have been a better prelude to what was quickly starting to feel like a second date.

 

They emerged from the station on the west side of the park and approached the entrance through a break in the stone wall. The park was picturesque.  Green benches lined walkways that were contoured with trees which cast speckled shade along the route. There were throngs of pedestrians populating the park; joggers, nannies and their wards in strollers, tourists and their cameras, but the only face among the crowd that registered was Elsa. He felt like they had the whole of Central Park to themselves.

 

As they passed the Great Lawn, they paused their conversation as the smells from food vendors wafted into their path.  

 

“Perhaps we should stop for a bite before we get to the museum.  It will probably be way past lunchtime when we’re done and besides, if you haven’t had a real New York City hot dog, you’re missing out,” Elsa suggested.

 

“How could I turn down such a ringing endorsement? You haven’t steered me wrong yet, lass,” Liam mused.

 

They walked with their hot dogs, which Liam unsurprisingly enjoyed, and continued toward 5th Avenue to the monumental entrance to the Met. Elsa stopped at the base of the steps and took a moment to take in the architectural prowess of the building itself.  

 

Liam debated offering his hand to Elsa, but in no way wanted to insinuate she should require his assistance to ascend the great set of steps. He simply gestured towards the door after glancing at her wide eyes, “Shall we?”

 

“Let’s,” Elsa replied with a smile.

 

The architecture on the inside was even more tremendous than the exterior.  The grand domed skylights and hulking archways created an awe inspiring entrance.  Elsa let them up the Grand Stairway and they began to explore the various collections.  The museum contents were inspiring on so many levels.  The art was extraordinary, from antiquity all the way through contemporary, and from all over the world, in addition to the various arms and armor, costumes and musical instruments in the collection.  

 

As they moved through the galleries, Elsa shared her knowledge and background of different historical periods and artists, but was impressed with how much Liam knew as well. He shared his refreshing perspective from both his extensive British education and his world travels.  Every glimpse Elsa got into this surprising and complex man intrigued her more.

 

Liam seemed to be particularly captivated by a Turner oil painting, depicting a Venice canal, peppered with sailing ships and gondolas. The canal was framed by towering Venetian architecture and reflected in the water below. It did not surprise Elsa that Liam was familiar with such a well-known British painter, but his insight was profound.

 

“See how his command of light and color positively illuminates the sky and the water? The Romantics really knew how to make you fall in love with a place,” Liam murmured, leaning his head to Elsa while his gaze remained focused on the painting.  

 

_I get the feeling already_ , Elsa thought to herself.  

 

“You can follow the water all the way until it disappears into the distance. And the way the sky makes you feel like it goes up and on forever? That ethereal quality gives you the sense of the grandeur of nature.”  Liam paused, eyes scanning the painting.  “Although, I may just be partial because of how beautifully he paints ships, which I have always loved, and also that he painted places that are very close to where I live.  His clear emotional attachment to the places he paints comes through his work, and you can’t help but be affected by it.  You should see his paintings of Brighton.  Simply breathtaking.”

 

“The paintings or Brighton?”

 

“Both.”

 

“I’d like that,” Elsa demurely replied, a slight blush creeping across her cheeks.

 

“As would I,” Liam replied, heart in his throat.  He looked down at Elsa to gauge her face, which was still fixed on the painting.  He looked down and her hands were clasped together tightly in front of her, her arms covered in goosepimples.  “Are you cold, love? It is quite chilly in here.”  If he had been wearing one, he would have offered her his coat.  He placed his hands on her arms and vigorously rubbed from her shoulders to her elbows in an effort to warm her up.

 

Elsa wasn’t bothered by the cold, never had been.  Besides, it wasn’t the effective air conditioning that had sent a shiver coursing through her body, but damned if she would say anything that would discourage Liam from continuing his touch.  Even though his attempts to rid her of her goosebumps were chivalrous, she couldn’t help but be slightly turned on at the thought of what those hands were capable of. Suddenly, the chill she was feeling started to warm her from the inside out.

 

They explored the rest of the museum until their feet ached. Elsa couldn’t let their visit end without stepping out to the roof garden. She could take or leave the Empire State Building, this was her favorite view of Manhattan in the whole city. The sea of Central Park tree tops below the towering skyline was magnificent, but what took her breath away was not just the view itself, but how much she wanted to share it with Liam.

 

“Wow,” Liam whispered, as they emerged through the glass doors.  

 

“Pretty fantastic, right?” she replied, proud she could bring him so much joy. The sparkle in his eyes and warmth in his smile brought on a familiar shiver, but the warmth of the sun was enough to keep the visual evidence on her skin at bay.

 

“Aye.”

 

They sat and gazed out at the skyline, Elsa pointed out various buildings and landmarks.  After resting their feet a bit, the sun’s low position in the sky reminded them it had been quite some time since their hot dogs.  They both arrived on the topic of dinner almost simultaneously.

 

“I’m sure you have excellent Indian food in England, but if you’re at all a fan, I would be remiss if I didn’t take you to my favorite place.  Its pretty close to the apartment, so we can either eat there get take-out,” Elsa suggested.

 

“Whichever you prefer.  I leave it in your very capable hands,” Liam bowed his head slightly.

 

“Well then, if you don’t mind, let’s just grab it to go. My feet are killing me, and we can call in the order so it’s ready by the time we get there.”

 

Elsa pulled up the menu on her phone, and they called in their order.  It would be ready in about 45 minutes. _Perfect_. It was the right amount of time they needed to take the bus back to the East Village. It wasn’t a glamorous mode of transportation, but the bus they needed took them right down 5th Avenue, past the famous shops, Rockefeller Center and the Empire State Building.

 

She let Liam sit closest to the window so he had the best view, but she didn’t complain when she had to lean over him to see enough to point out landmarks.  She curved her body into his strong shoulders and couldn’t ignore how amazing he smelled, even after a full day of walking around.  

 

They stepped into the apartment and laid out their bounty on the kitchen counter. Liam began opening containers, identifying the curries and tikkas from one another.  Elsa produced a few plates and silverware, and they served their dinner buffet style.

 

They sat at the small kitchen table with their dinner that had been carried home in a sack, but for all it seemed, it was the most opulent fine dining experience of Liam’s life. In the secluded apartment, he was completely focused on Elsa, noticing more and more tiny details that only made him more attracted to her. How her eyelashes fell closed and she shrugged her shoulders slightly when she felt a bit bashful, or when her eyes grew slightly larger and intense when she got talking about her teaching.  

 

“I never asked, when we met...when you thought I was Emma,” Liam paused, recalling that surprising moment, _Until it was quite obvious I wasn’t_ , Liam chuckled to himself, “You said that you weren’t supposed to be home for weeks, that you came home early. May I ask why? I’d like to know who or what I have to thank for the good fortune of meeting you,” he balked at the words as they came out, afraid of sounding too forward, “You’ve been an excellent tour guide.”

 

“Well, I was home visiting my parents, as I do most summers.  One of the perks of being a teacher, summers off.  It’s the only time I get to see them really. One night, my sister comes bounding into the kitchen and announces she’s engaged!  I knew she had a boyfriend, but I hadn’t met him. I had no idea…” Elsa trailed off. She and her sister were close, and she sometimes felt guilty that she lived so far away.  

 

“They want a December wedding, so instead of having the wedding in 18 months, they’re doing it in 6 months!  Anna always was impulsive,” Elsa said wistfully. “So we worked out all that needed to get done and it became clear that the only way I was going to be able to take off enough time to help my sister with wedding preparations is if I came back and got a summer job. If I save up and work now, I can afford to fly back in the fall to help her with all the stuff that needs to get done. In 6 months.”  Elsa had been living in a blissful bubble, sightseeing with Liam all day for the last few days, putting off the reality of her life. All of a sudden, the pressure and stress of her life was crashing down.

 

“I feel badly now that I have been occupying all your time.  I’ll be fine, Elsa, if you need to-”

 

“No!” Elsa protested, “I mean...no,” she restated more calmly, “It’s really okay.  I have plenty of time to find a job.  And you’re leaving at the end of the week, so…” she trailed off as her heart sank to her stomach. The last fragments of their bubble shattered, the unavoidable truth spoken out loud. Whatever was developing between them, this _thing_ , was fleeting.  It had an expiration date.  

 

Both their eyes fell to their plates and they finished their meal with much more innocuous subjects of conversation.  They cleaned up their empty dishes and packed up the leftovers, avoiding much in the way of eye contact.

 

After dinner, Elsa suggested they could watch Netflix. Mercifully, it was an activity that didn’t require much interaction, but they could remain physically close. They agreed on a title from the queue, neither really caring what it was.  Hopefully it would be distracting enough to do pull their minds off the somber epiphany from dinner.

 

They managed to get through the movie without incident. Liam knew that Elsa was a strong woman, stubborn almost, recognizing that quality with uncanny awareness. But, as they sat on that couch, he could tell it was taking her a lot of effort to hold something back, whatever it was.  He didn’t miss her eyes dart in his direction more than once out of his peripheral vision during the film.  

 

When you’re staying in the same apartment, walking a lady to her door is a short walk, but Liam still insisted.  He turned to face her, and for the first time since dinner, locked his ice blue gaze on hers.

 

“Well, goodnight,” Liam whispered.

 

“Goodnight, Liam,” Elsa whispered back, her voice hitching with a touch of sadness.  But she didn’t turn away. She stood frozen to the spot, like her body was protesting what her mind was insisting had to be.

 

Liam's eyes searched Elsa’s face, looking for any indication, encouragement or even permission to do what he had been dying to do since they met.  He wanted to be honorable, not to give in to indulgent impulses.  He was nothing if not a gentleman, but for God’s sake when she was looking at him like that, he could only be so strong.  He knew he was leaving.  That this was all temporary.  But she hadn’t turned away from him, and in the space of a few breaths of silence, that was all the hope he needed.

 

Liam leaned in slowly and cupped his hand to Elsa’s cheek.  He softly pressed his lips to hers and instantly felt the tension in her body soften.  As he reached his other arm around the small of her back to hold her close, she let escape the smallest of moans.  She didn’t pull away.  Her lips were so lush and sensuous, he didn’t ever want to stop.  But he had to.  For her.  Liam pulled away slowly, fluttering his eyes back open and reluctantly released her from his embrace.

 

“Sweet dreams, Elsa.”

 

Elsa watched him turn away and disappear into Emma’s room.  When she was confident the door latched behind him, she reached up her hand to brush her fingers across her lips, still tingling from Liam’s.  She was the master of _conceal, don’t feel_ , but her feelings for him were too strong, too _real_ , and refused to be denied.  She finally was able detach her feet from the floor and retreat to her room, where she attempted to come up with what on earth she could possibly do next.

 


	6. Chapter 6

Basking in the sun on the bow of a sailboat was quickly becoming one of Emma’s favorite summer pastimes.  Especially when the captain of which - tall, impossibly chiseled and thoroughly sexy - was shirtless by her side. Enough time had elapsed that Emma could feel the sweat beading on her stomach and rolling off the curve at her waist, tickling her slightly.  She stealthily squinted over at Killian, his sculpted arm bent under his head and his tan skin glistening in the heat.  She captured her bottom lip in her teeth, unable (or possibly just unwilling) to hide her arousal.

 

“See something you like, love?” Killian didn’t even crack his eyes open.

 

“Yeah,” Emma replied with a coy smile, “It _is_ getting pretty hot out here.”  She didn’t even know where this forward behavior was coming from, but thoughts and words like that kept bubbling to the surface and she, didn’t feel the need to hold back.

 

"Well, I have just the thing to cool us down, then." Killian hoisted himself up and offered his hand to Emma. "Do you trust me?"

 

God, the crazy thing was, she _did_.  But she certainly wasn't brave enough to say it out loud. She simply smiled and placed her hand in his.  She stood beside him, and he led her to the lifeline cable that served as a guardrail around the bow.  

 

Killian swung one long leg after another over the cable so that his toes gripped the edge. He gave a backwards glance at Emma, whose eyes darted between him and the water skeptically. She was at the beach yesterday, so she knew what that water temperature was like. The sun was out, and the weather was warm, but the water exhibited no illusions about how far north England actually was.

 

"No. Way. It's freezing!" Emma protested.

 

"Oh, come on, Swan, it's not that bad. Live a little." Unable to resist the encouragement of his devilish grin that would surely be the end of her, she climbed over the cable and perched alongside him.

 

Killian clasped her hand and searched her eyes. "One...two..." He couldn't resist pausing for dramatic effect.  She was gritting her teeth, bracing herself with an excited, adorable, bug-eyed stare. "THREE!"

 

The two leapt in unison, Emma's shrieking in a combination of fear and glee echoing off the water, and landed with a splash.

 

"Oh my god, is it _cold_!" Emma exclaimed, bursting from the surface.  She treaded water as Killian emerged beside her.

 

"Wahey! Refreshing, isn't it?" Killian panted, swimming up beside her.

 

"A bit chillier than I would consider _refreshing_.”

 

“Then let’s get you warmed up,” Killian said with suggestive wink, planting a swim-up kiss on her lips then heading toward the stern.  He flipped down a folding ladder from the small swim platform and hung on there until Emma followed.  “Up you go.  Ladies first.”

 

As Emma swam towards him, Killian couldn’t help but compare her graceful movement through the water to that of a mermaid.  She glided so smoothly, her long blond hair shimmering behind her.  She gave him a knowing glance before ascending the ladder, fully acknowledging the view he was about to get from the surface of the water.

 

Emma stood on the platform, arched her back and squeezed the excess water out of her hair, her craned neck accentuating her lithe figure.  The afternoon sun backlit her in silhouette, reflecting off of every glimmer of moisture that clung to every curve.  Killian knew full well that she was intentionally laying it on thick, but that didn’t make him enjoy it any less.  In fact, it was even more alluring, that she was purposefully trying to get a rise out of him. It was working.

 

Killian hauled himself up the ladder and joined Emma on the deck.  He draped her shoulders with a towel and embraced her tightly, only partially for the purpose of warming her up.  His strong arms encircled her body, caressing her more than was necessary to dry her off. She looked up at him with wide eyes of adoration that practically made him melt on the spot. He was unfairly aware of the tides and the sinking sun, so he stayed his more romantic intentions.  His captain’s responsibility won out and he released her from his grasp with a smile.

 

“Unfortunately, love, we must get going. If we miss the tide, we’ll be stuck out here until morning.”

 

_That wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world_ , Emma thought to herself. But she didn’t want to overstay her welcome, and if Killian said it was time to go, she trusted his seaman’s judgment.

 

“Okay,” she replied softly. Killian winked before turning to the bow to begin pulling up the anchor.

 

During their entire sail back to the marina, Emma stayed tucked into Killian’s side at the wheel.  She only leaned away from him to marvel in awe at his handed skill.  When his arms were free and he only needed one to steer, the other wrapped around her shoulder or waist, as if having her by his side was the most natural place for her to be. She tried not to let the sheer ease of it all scare her. It just felt right, and that was enough for her. She occasionally leaned up to plant an indulgent kiss on his neck as he steered them home.

 

Killian brought the Jolly Roger back into the slip, effortlessly executing a three-point turn and backing her in.  He jumped off the boat onto the dock and tossed Emma the bowline she had previously cast off. With his direction, she replaced it expertly onto the cleat from whence it came.  He attached a few more lines and stepped back on the boat to rejoin her.  

 

Emma was already below, packing up their leftover lunch fixings in the galley. She whirled around as his slender, toned legs descended the ladder. “I think we make quite the team,” Killian remarked with a roguish grin.

 

Emma blushed.  “I had a really good day,” she remarked, appreciatively, “Thank you,” grazing a soft caress down his arm.

 

“It was my pleasure,” Killian bowed, as if he had just escorted a princess on an excursion.

 

“We should probably be getting back, though.  The sun is almost gone, and I’m gonna freeze in wet hair and shorts.”

 

“As you wish,” Killian replied.  

 

In the interest of time and the falling temperature, they grabbed a cab back to Liam’s house.  Killian dutifully escorted her up the front walk. He fished his own set of keys from his pocket to open the door. Emma chuckled at the courtly gesture and gazed down at her feet with a shy smile.  Her smile transformed into a perplexed pucker when she noticed something in the concrete under her foot on the bottom stair. Three handprint impressions, one adult sized and two child sized, one smaller than the other. There were a few letters carved below each, but it was hard to make out in the dim light.

 

“I didn’t know Liam had kids,” Emma remarked, squinting to examine the impressions.

 

“Pardon? Liam doesn’t have any kids, why would you…” Killian turned as he spoke, but trailed off when he discovered exactly why Emma had drawn that conclusion.  “Ah…well, love, those aren’t Liam’s kids,”  Killian sidled up next to her and pointed to the ground, “That littlest one?  That’s me.”

 

“That’s you?” Emma repeated, incredulous.

 

“Aye.  That one’s mine, that’s Liam’s,” Killian pointed to the middle print, then with a deep breath added, “And that’s our mother’s.”

 

Emma stood stunned.  The air around her suddenly felt thinner and took slightly more effort to breathe. In an instant, the realism of the past few days came crashing down around her. Killian wasn’t just another guy she met in a bar somewhere. She was on vacation, but this was his world. He had a life here, he had roots, a family past she couldn’t even begin to relate to. And without intending to, she went and dove headlong into it.

 

A thousand questions flooded her mind, but she didn’t dare ask a one of them. All she could do was turn her gaze to Killian’s face. His eyes still remained fixed on the impressions. He shook his head with a long blink and returned his focus to Emma. Killian looked like he was about to speak, so she mustered the composure she needed to interrupt him.

 

“It’s getting late, I should probably get inside,” Emma didn’t even buy her own feeble tone.

 

“Alright, let me get the door for you,” Killian offered.

 

“No, it’s alright. I’ve got a key, I can get it,” Emma avoided looking him in the eye by fumbling in her purse for Liam’s spare key.

 

“You can just say you don’t want me to come in,” Killan returned, exhibiting his uncanny talent for seeing straight through any facade Emma attempted to construct.

 

“No, it's not that.  I just…” Emma stammered again, just like the morning had started, desperately grasping to regain control of a situation.  “No, I’m just tired.  It’s been a long day, I think I’m just going to take a nap.”

 

Killian shook his head, thoroughly unconvinced, but nonetheless, respecting her wishes. “Okay, I’ll pretend I believe you.”

 

Emma acknowledged the look of the reluctant but sincere gentleman in his soft eyes and terse smile, reflecting the most heartbreaking mix of affection and rejection.  She closed her eyes and raised up on her toes to press a delicate kiss to his lips.  She had to repress every impulse in her body that screamed for her to throw her arms around his neck and never let go. With great strength and effort, she pulled away.

 

“Can I see you again?” Killian murmured low, heart in his throat.

 

After a pause, the best Emma could come up with was, “I’ll call you,” a half-hearted commitment she hoped he believed.  Whether he did or didn’t, he took his dismissal in courteous stride.

 

“Goodnight, Emma,” Killian bid her, lifting her hand to brush one last kiss on her knuckles before turning away.  

 

Emma ascended the few steps to the door and turned her key in the lock.  Before disappearing inside, she turned a parting glance toward Killian. He was standing on the sidewalk, unwilling to walk away until he was sure she was safely inside. She gave a small wave from the door, which he returned, and she closed the door behind her.

 

Killian shoved his hands in his pockets and embarked on his walk back to the marina.  It had been such a perfect day, why had he spoiled it by opening his bloody mouth? Whatever he said, it clearly spooked her.  Hopefully he could find out and talk it over with her soon. His days with Emma were precious and few, and he didn’t want to waste time, but she clearly wanted some space.

 

Emma stood against the door for a longer moment than she intended, but was transfixed by her appraisal of the house with this new information. She regarded the house with a whole new lens. If Liam were still a stranger, she would have had no qualms about peeking around and getting a better picture of the person in whose home she was inhabiting.  But after getting to know Killian so well (intimately, even), this seemed like an odd invasion of privacy.  Whispers of her own conscience penetrated her mind.  

 

_It’s his life, not yours._

_The more you know about it, the harder it will be to leave._

_Don’t mess with someone else’s life._

_You’re leaving anyway, don’t make this harder than it has to be._

 

Intellectually, she had every reason to leave well enough alone.  But the feelings from their day together had not worn off.  (Perhaps it never would.) It was primal, deeper - like instinct. The way she felt laughing with him in the sun, when he stroked her hair, when he talked about the sea, the fluttering she felt in her stomach just by seeing him smile. An unnamed feeling in her chest that told her everything she needed to know about him without uttering a word. Even the way he looked at her when she told him her sob story. There was no pity in his face. He didn’t feel sorry for her. He treated her with even greater dignity and admiration than before, if that was at all possible.

 

She wrestled with her own judgement, but her inquiring mind got the better of her. If she was going to get this captivating, complicated man out of her system for good, perhaps she could find a flaw that would assist her efforts.  Perhaps if she knew more about him, she would be forced to realize that everything she had painted in her mind about him was fantasy. She needed to find some flaw to dissolve it, to make her not want him so much, although that would be quite a feat.  She was desperate for a reason to push him away besides her natural inclination to run.

 

She retraced her steps from the first time she walked through the house, but kept her investigative eye out for clues she might have missed.  She wandered into the living room, this time scanning the bookshelf. There were a handful of titles, some she recognized, some she didn’t, but she came across a particularly thick volume. The spine read _Photos_.

 

She plucked the album from the shelf and settled on the couch to thumb through it.

 

On every page, Emma was met with familiar sets of bright blue eyes sparkling back at her. In some pictures, they belonged to a pair of school-age boys seemingly thick as thieves, side by side in some manner of troublemaking. In some of them, they belonged to a graceful woman with long, wavy auburn hair, whose smile reflected the same warmth that seemed befitting of the house itself.  

 

Emma recognized the setting of some of the pictures. A birthday, complete with cake and candles, at the kitchen table.  A Christmas tree, trimmed to perfection, in the very room she sat in.  She chuckled when she came across a candid image taken in the garden; two swim trunk clad kids, one with curly brown hair and missing a few teeth, and one with unmistakable, unruly dark hair that refused to be tamed.  They seemed to be very engaged in some activity or game involving a hose, a kiddie pool and some plastic toys.  She could only imagine how amused the person taking the photo must have been been at that moment.

 

As the pages turned, the boys grew more and more into the men she recognized. The last page consisted of a single photo, a self-taken image, too close to identify the background. The woman, whose face seemed much older and more feeble than her barely-greying hair would suggest, was centered between the brothers with a cannula draped from her nose around her ears. Her smile was soft, weak, but serene. The boys, (rather, young men) by her sides had more strained, feeble smiles, ones that had unmistakable sadness behind them.

 

Emma closed the book in her lap and exhaled a deep sigh. She had gone looking for clues about Killian’s life that would make it easier to walk away, to move on. But seeing his stoic smile in the face of loss and pain struck her in a way that was very deep and all too recognizable. In looking for flaws that would dissuade her feelings, she discovered that they were more closely connected than she could have anticipated. The pull in her chest was distinctly towards this man, instead of away, and unlike any she had ever felt.

 

Without even knowing why, Emma was overcome with the impulse to see Killian again. Maybe it was to apologize for her cold dismissal at the front door. Maybe it was to learn more about the photos. Maybe it was just because she couldn’t bear the thought of leaving things they way they did knowing what she knew now. She concluded it was probably an _all of the above_ situation, and before she could talk herself out of it, she returned to her bedroom to freshen up before returning to the marina.

 

Sprinting through a shower and a change of clothes, something slightly warmer to stay comfortable in the cool, breezy night, Emma flew out the door and hailed the first cab she came across.  

 

“The marina, please.  As close to the docks as you can.”

 

~~~

 

Liam braced his hand on the bedroom doorknob, closing his eyes and taking a deep, cleansing breath before opening it. He had rehearsed all the things he wanted to say to Elsa in the bathroom mirror while getting ready. He tried a few different ways to express some combination of “I’m sorry if what I did was brazen, but I’m not sorry I did it.” The horses were out of the barn now.  Elsa knew how he felt. However she chose to reciprocate his affections, or not, was completely up to her.

 

Liam entered the kitchen, bracing himself for the conversation that could go one of a number of different ways. His eyes landed on a piece of paper on the kitchen counter and his heart dropped to his stomach.  There would be no such conversation this morning. Had she fled this morning, unable to even look at him after their kiss? Had he acted so far out of turn that he drove her away? What did she want to say to him that she felt she couldn’t say in person? He gingerly picked up the letter to read, practically trembling, speculating as to what it might say. God help him, he was even attracted to her handwriting.

 

_Liam,_

_I’m sorry I can’t be with you today. I have some job leads to follow up on and applications to drop off around town.  If you don’t have any other plans, may I suggest walking the High Line in Chelsea.  It’s a beautiful park built on a historic elevated rail line and it’s unlike any other park I’ve ever seen.  I think you’ll really like it.  If you want, let’s meet for a drink around 6ish?  There’s a wine bar not far from the Chelsea Market, at the southern end of the High Line. See you tonight._

_Elsa_

 

Liam exhaled a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding and a wave of relief washed over him.   _She wanted to see him again_. That’s all that mattered. She was thinking about him enough to make a suggestion about what he could do in her absence. Something she thought he’d enjoy. She had left printed directions to the High Line including the bus schedule to get there, as well as the wine bar name and address. He was renewed with hope. She didn’t reject him, she didn’t flee.

 

Not intending to let her down, he planned to spend the day exactly as Elsa suggested. Perhaps walking through a park would help him clear his head, give him time to process, and to decide what he would say when he saw her that night. He counted down the hours until six o’clock, feeling a sense that it wouldn’t come soon enough.

 

~~~

 

Emma walked down the dock toward the _Jolly Roger_. Her nerves caused her legs to feel as if she was bobbing on the water although she was still on solid ground. When she approached the slip, she spotted Killian reclining on the bow, a tumbler of dark liquid dangling from his fingers, intently focused on the night sky above.

 

“Ahoy,” Emma hailed, soft enough not to startle him, but loud enough for him to hear. Either the effort was unsuccessful or he must have been deep in thought because Killian whipped around and his eyes grew huge.  

 

“Swan!” Killian exclaimed with shock, “What are you doing here?” Of all the possibilities Killian had entertained that night, after showering off the day and seeking the comfort of rum, Emma returning to see him on his boat was not one of them. He traversed the deck as deftly as he could and closed the distance between them.

 

“Permission to come aboard?” Emma asked shyly.

 

“Of course! Please. Where are my manners?” Killian extended his hand to help Emma aboard, embarrassed he hadn’t already. “I’m sorry about earlier. If I said something that-”  
  


Emma put up her hands in protest. “No, Killian, you have nothing to be sorry for. I just didn’t expect…I didn’t know...” she trailed off. In all her efforts to not overthink her actions, she hadn’t put any thought into what she would actually say once she got there. Emma’s eyes fell to the tumbler in his hand.  “Any more where that came from?”

 

“Aye,” Killian replied with a relieved smile. “I’ll fix you something. Come on in.” He turned toward the open hatch, Emma following obligingly. As she descended the ladder, she noticed how different the cabin looked at night.  The few small sconces and lamps emitted a low, romantic glow and illuminated the warm teak and soft cushions.

 

Emma seated herself on the couch, tucking her legs up underneath her. She leaned over the counter that separated the living area from the galley while Killian pulled out a glass for her.  With the gentle plinking of ice cubes, he poured her drink and refreshed his own. They toasted with a familiar clink, and Killian settled in to the couch beside her. While his mouth was occupied taking a sip from his glass, Emma peeled her eyes away in just enough time to start speaking before he could.

 

“So, you used to live in that house?”

 

“Aye, practically all my life. Just Mum, Liam and I,” Killian took a sip as the telltale look of nostalgia came over his face. “We moved in shortly after my father left.”

 

“Your dad left you?” Emma was struck. Certainly explains why only three handprints, and she didn’t recall seeing any father-types in any of the photos.

 

“That he did. And with nary a goodbye to any of us. Just took off in the middle of the night like a coward. I barely remember the bastard, but it Liam took it pretty hard. But our mother, she was a tough lass,” _She would have liked you_ , Killian had hold back from saying aloud. “She had enough money saved to rent us a place, that house. She said that being by the water was good for growing boys.”

 

Emma wondered what it would be like to think about a parent so affectionately, to feel that kind of love. She silently laid her hand on Killian’s leg as he continued.  

 

“We lived there a few years before she was actually able to to buy it. It had become our home and none of us wanted to leave. Our first home improvement project was to fix a crack in the front step. Before the cement set, we put our handprints in it so that we, along with any who passed, would always know that it was our home.  She was so proud that day, my mother.  She built our life from the ground up, on her own merits, from pieces that were left broken and scattered from someone else’s wrongdoing.”

 

_I think I would have liked her_ , Emma thought to herself. She smiled softly and watched as Killian’s eyes drifted somewhere new and a melancholy veil fell over his face.

 

“So, when she got sick...” Killian paused. Emma remembered the oxygen tube from the last page of the photo album. “It was hard. But she was a fighter, I’ll tell you, right to the end.”  Killian forced a smile and drink, the size of his sip larger than any previous ones.

 

“What happened?” Emma asked sympathetically. She was well acquainted with abandonment, people leaving her, but always because of their own odious actions. Never by some force outside of their control, unwillingly.

 

“Cancer. It progressed rapidly, both a blessing and a curse, I s’pose. She didn’t suffer long, but it took her fast. Sometimes Liam blames himself, like if he had been paying closer attention he would have noticed something, or raising us alone made her work too hard…” Killian’s voice ebbed as he spoke, dwindling to silence.

 

“So that’s why he didn’t want to move out?” Emma hadn’t intended on dredging up old, painful family memories, but the way Killian was looking at her as he spoke, sharing this with her seemed to be therapeutic in some way.    
  
“Actually, he had his own flat when she passed. She managed that house on her own until she couldn’t any more.  She was very particular about precisely how it should be cleaned, where everything had to be put away, which dishes get used, how the linens should be folded. Liam gets his stubbornness from her…” Killian chuckled with a scoff.

 

“So when she left the house to us, we had to decide what to do with it.”  His shoulders rounded out slightly, in a posture that started to resemble shame.  “I couldn’t...I just...I had been bouncing around the south coast for a while, I hadn’t even lived on dry land in years. I started renting my berth here when she got sick and needed help, but the thought of walking into that house without her…being there every day...” He couldn’t voice the guilt that always accompanied this particular memory.  Liam took charge of the house because Killian couldn’t.  

 

He realized what he must sound like, prattling on in a sudden outpour of his life’s story, chapters he hadn’t cracked in a long time.  She didn’t ask for all this.  “Anyway, I’m sorry if I’ve bored you, love.  I’m usually much more charming and lively to be around.” He shifted his gaze from the bottom of his glass back to Emma.

 

“You have nothing to apologize for, Killian.  I’m glad you told me.”  She and Killian understood each other.  When the past is hard to face, you run. If anyone knew that song and dance, it was Emma Swan. “I will say that the house makes a little more sense now.  I was trying to figure out why your brother, a single guy, lived in a house that looked more suitable for a whole family,” _And like it was decorated by Mary Poppins_ , Emma added in her mind.

 

“Still, I hope I didn’t cast a pall over our evening. My childhood is rarely a topic of conversation when I have such lovely lasses aboard my ship,” In a single moment, Killian shifted from vulnerable, open-hearted man of honor, back to the winking, lascivious rapscallion. The fact that he genuinely was both only made him more irresistible.  

 

“Oh? And how often do you entertain these lady guests?” Emma ribbed with a toss of her hair.

 

“Truth be told, the only one that matters is here right now, so I’m not even sure I remember,” Killian replied, shifting closer in her direction and setting their glasses down on the table.

 

“And if your...guest...wanted a full tour of the ship…” Emma lilted.

 

“Anything the lady wishes,” Killian stood, extending his hand. Planted in one spot, he pivoted around and pointed to the different areas of the cabin. “Here we have the parlor, you’re familiar with the galley, the head is just there and through that door…” Killian pointed to the door that had piqued Emma’s curiosity earlier in the day.

 

“May I have a tour of that room?” Emma asked with a thickly flirtatious tone.

 

“Like I said. As you wish,” Killian murmured low, slightly more breathy than he intended.  A flame within him was being stoked, one that hadn’t been lit in a long time. His tongue toyed with the side of his mouth, and his darkened eyes stayed fixed on Emma’s as he led her to his bed. He stopped when the backs of his legs hit the edge, and before he could motion to move next, her arms flew around his neck and he fell backwards, pinned underneath her.

 

Emma’s mind was a whirlwind of emotions. Instinct had driven her to Killian’s boat that night, and now every impulse in her body was prompting her to act, not think. She couldn’t determine which part of her wanted to be closer to Killian in that moment, her heart or her body, so she decided to satisfy both and kissed him deeply, arching her body into his.  

 

Killian made a few small moans of protest and gently sat them up.  “Allow me to do just one thing, love. No need to broadcast our dalliance to the entire harbor.” Emma propped up on her elbows as she watched him cross through the cabin to close the hatch and companionway door.  “Apologies, love. Now I can devote to you my full and prompt attention,” Killian purred, as he sauntered smoothly toward her.

 

A heady mix of anticipation, desire, and something unidentifiable quaked through Emma’s whole body. Time and space may assault them with consequences in the morning, but any warnings her mind could issue fell silent the moment Killian closed the distance between them. He raised a knee beside hers, then the other and the moment he began his trail of searing kisses down her neck, all rational thought was gone from her mind.

 

 


	7. Chapter 7

The dim light of the cabin cast Killian’s tan skin in a warm glow. Emma toyed with his soft patch of chest hair, resting her head on his shoulder, while he carded his fingers through her long, blond locks. They were sated and very nearly asleep when Killian’s phone buzzed to life. The glow of the screen illuminated its location on the shelf above their heads and he reached for it as best he could without disturbing his beautiful companion. Squinting at the screen, he discerned the speech bubble text icon indicating a new text message. The sender read _Liam_.

 

_Hey Killian. Got a mo?_

 

“Sorry, love, it’s my brother.” Liam usually used some manner of belittling pet name, reserving Killian’s given name for more serious matters. With one hand, Killian thumbed out a response.

 

_Yeah, what’s up?_

 

Liam’s reply didn’t come in the form of a text, but rather, his photo popped up on Killian’s phone with a video call.  

 

“I think I have to take this, darling.”  

 

Emma let out a small whine of protest. Begrudgingly, she rolled over, resting her head on a pillow that was a poor substitution for Killian’s shoulder. She pouted playfully, but understood. If she had family to speak of that called her from across the world, she’d take it in a heartbeat.

 

Killian scooted up so he was reclining against the back wall of the compartment. He framed his face in the screen and met eyes with Liam, who was smiling broadly in the afternoon sun. He was in some sort of park, surrounded by green space overlooking the river. Leave it to Liam to find a picturesque spot by the water to show off his travels.

 

“Nice of you to check in,” Killian chided, “You’re quite the jetsetter!”

 

“Aye, sorry about leaving so abruptly. I called you before I left. You got my message I presume?”

 

 _Thankfully, I did not. Not in time, anyway._ Killian thought to himself, straining very hard to maintain a poker face. “Aye,” he nodded.

 

“The woman staying at the house seems nice. I know I said not to bother her, but you should maybe pop by and see how she’s getting on.”

 

“Right. First thing after work tomorrow, I’ll drop in and see if Emma needs anything.” Killian damn near clapped his hand over his mouth, hearing his error tumbling out. It was too late.

 

“I never told you her name. Killian…” Liam eyed him suspiciously through the lens. “Oh! You didn’t. Tell me you didn’t…”  

 

Emma had to suppress a giggle, which no doubt would have outed them both.

 

“Well, if you had put a bit more effort into telling me you were leaving town, I wouldn’t have gone over there after drinks with the lads, making a complete arse of myself!” Killian saw Liam roll his eyes, and he took advantage of his brief glance away to wink at Emma, who was perched on her elbow, grinning. Killian didn’t regret a single thing from that night, but he had to get his licks in with Liam where he could.

 

“Just fantastic. So you were pissed as well? I hope you didn’t frighten her to death with your behavior. I know how you can get.”

 

“She didn’t mind at all, really,” Killian replied, scratching behind his ear. His facade was less and less convincing the more he spoke. Perhaps it had something to do with Emma’s foot running the length of his leg under the sheets, or her fingers toying with the groove in his hip.

 

Liam’s eyes bugged out of his head. He knew Killian’s tell. His brother had picked it up from him. “Killian! I can’t believe you shagged the woman staying in my house! She’s a perfectly decent person, barely knows her way around, and you go and barge in there and immediately get into her knickers!”

 

Emma had bury her face in the pillow to stifle her laugh. As entertained as she was, Liam’s berating was unjustly severe. She felt the need to let Killian off the hook (anyway, _she_ was the one who propositioned _him_ that night), and couldn’t resist an opportunity to make another Jones brother squirm.

 

Before Killian realized what she was doing, Emma slid her body up beside him and poked her head into frame. “Hello!” she trilled, twinkling her fingers playfully.

 

Liam’s face went white as a sheet as the penny dropped. “Bollocks!” He cursed under his breath. “Emma, I am so sorry, for both my language and my terrible crassness. I…I had no idea you were…”

 

“Relax, Liam, it’s okay,” Emma laughed, “Killian has been nothing but a gentleman, I couldn’t be in better hands. It’s nice to meet you, by the way.”

 

“And you as well, lass,” Liam replied, visibly softening. “Have you been enjoying yourself so far?”

 

Emma smiled in agreement, trying to answer the question straight, but her face told the whole story. “Yes, very much so.” It was all she could do to not dart her eyes at Killian as she said it.  “How are you liking New York?”

 

“Loving it. We’ve been quite busy. Started with the Statue of Liberty, spent the day at the Met yesterday,”  Liam regaled, breezing right past his misstep, hoping neither of them would notice.  No such luck.

 

“Hold on. _We_? You don’t know anyone in New York,” Killian’s smug grin could not be contained. He seized the turn of the tables, and it was Liam’s turn to fidget in his seat.

 

“Aye, um, Elsa’s been a lovely tour guide so far,” Liam uttered in a bashful tone that went perfectly with his humble pie. He was a hypocrite for disparaging Killian’s actions when he was guilty of his own romantic entanglements abroad.

 

“Elsa’s _there_?!” Emma shrieked. She had been so caught up in making arrangements to leave, and Elsa wasn’t supposed to be back until she got home, so she hadn’t even bothered to tell her roommate she was renting their place out.  

 

“How obliging of her to show you around,” Killian riposted, the irony was not lost on him. He was able to draw conclusions based on Liam’s shifty, evasive reaction to Emma’s shock.

 

Just then, Emma’s phone flashed signs of life inside the pocket of her jeans, which lay in a heap at the foot of the bed. “Hang on a second,” Emma held up one finger to the video screen and rolled away out of frame. She plucked it out, and her screen read _1 new message_ above a small icon of Elsa’s face beside the text.

 

_Hey Em!_

 

“It’s Elsa, actually,” Emma reported, slightly baffled at the uncanny timing.

 

Emma tapped out her response.

 

_Hey! How was your trip?_

 

“Really?” Liam inquired, overhearing Emma in the background. “How is she? Did she say how she is?”

 

Killian raised a suspicious eyebrow at his brother. “I’m sure Emma will ask. Why...is her well-being of some interest to you, brother?”

 

“Just find out, will you?” Liam implored.

 

Emma heard the insistent tone in Liam’s voice, so she sent another message before Elsa responded.

 

_I heard you met Liam. I am so sorry I didn’t tell you about him staying there! I hope you don’t mind._

 

Elsa’s response came in impressively quickly.

 

_Trip was fine. Whole other story. You talked to Liam? How is he?_

 

Emma knit her eyebrows together as a speculative smirk crawled across her lips.

 

_He’s asking how you are, actually._

_Can you tell him I’m good, and I can’t wait to see him tonight._

 

“Liam,” Emma addressed from her reclined position loud enough for the microphone to pick up.  “She says she’s good, and she can’t wait to see you tonight.”

 

A wave of relief washed over Liam’s face. “Oh, thank God,” he exhaled, hanging his head slightly.

 

“Why, Liam? Why would there be any concern that she would be less than good?” Killian searched the face on the screen. “What did you do?”

 

As Killian was interrogating Liam, Emma sent her reply.

 

_He says he’s glad you’re good.  What happened?_

 

Liam’s response and Elsa’s text both came on the heels of one another.

 

“I kissed her,” Liam confessed.

 

_We kissed._

 

“ _What?!_ ” Emma and Killian cried simultaneously. Their eyes darted back and forth from their screens to each other when they realized they had spoken in unison.

 

Emma was filled with questions for her usually reserved, decidedly pragmatic roommate. She decided to let Elsa be forthcoming with the information and keep it simple.

 

_And?_

 

It took a moment for Elsa’s response to come. It was either because she was choosing her words carefully or that the incoming text was about to be a novella in length. Either way, it gave Emma time to hear Liam’s reaction to Killian’s outburst.

 

“I don’t know, it’s just…” Liam fumbled through how best to summarize his quandary. “We’ve been spending a lot of time together. She really is wonderful, unlike anyone I’ve ever met. Things were going really well, and then last night she started talking about her life and all her obligations and got really somber. It felt like what we had over the last few days was dissolving right before my eyes. But when I bid her goodnight, Killian...oh, the way she was looking at me...I just had to try. If I didn’t show her how I feel I wasn’t sure I would get another chance, so…” Liam’s ramblings trailed off. He scrubbed his free hand over his face and practically dropped out of frame.

 

“Wow, I’ve never seen you like this over a woman,” Killian’s bewilderment was a mix of amusement and encouragement. “How did she react?”  
  
“I...I don’t really know. I just sort of...turned away and went back to my room after that. She was gone when I got up this morning, so I’ve been concerned all day that she was displeased with me.”

 

“But you’re seeing her tonight?” Killian asked.

 

“Aye. On her invitation, so I’m hopeful. Killian, I’ve never felt like this about anyone. I know it’s only been a few days, but-”  
  
“I completely understand. You don’t have to explain yourself to me,” Killian interrupted, with an indicative swivel of his eyes in Emma’s direction offscreen.

 

Liam smiled warmly, fully understanding his meaning. “Right. Well, I’m meeting her in a couple of hours, but I wanted to show you this amazing park.” Liam diffused the gravity of the conversation and turned the camera around to show Killian the beautiful gardens, backed by the breathtaking view of the Hudson.  

 

Emma listened to Liam talk a bit about the city, sharing his experiences with Killian, giving her the time to conduct her conversation with Elsa. Elsa’s version of the kiss gave her further insight into their developing _whatever it was_.

 

_And it was amazing. When he said goodnight to me last night, I just couldn’t walk away. I tried, but it was like my feet wouldn’t listen. Then he kissed me, and I kissed him back, and it was everything I imagined._

 

 _That’s great, Elsa! I’m happy for you!_  

 

Emma smiled as she typed. Elsa was the least impulsive person she knew. But if she was acting this far out of her usual patterns, there must be a reason.

 

_We’ve spent every day together since he got here, and it’s been really fun. We have a great time together. But last night, I started talking about my sister and her wedding (she’s getting married in six months, by the way) and all of a sudden I couldn’t pretend anymore._

 

Emma noticed the little ellipsis indicator that Elsa was already typing her next message. She patiently waited for Elsa to reveal more.

 

_I’m not on vacation, he is. I was ready to just take some space, not let myself get too attached. But as I stood there, it was like he was reading my mind, and did exactly what I was holding back from doing myself._

 

_Anna’s getting married? Good for her. But don’t let that stand in your way. You deserve to be happy too, Elsa._

_I am. But God, I’ve only known him a few days, and he’s so great, but he’s leaving, so I don’t know what the right thing to do is. I’m seeing him at six at that wine bar we like, so I just wanted to get your thoughts._

 

Emma contemplated how exactly to respond, how candidly to speak, knowing that anything she had to say in that moment could certainly be turned right back on her.

 

_Well, he sounds amazing. If you feel this crazy about him, don’t get too in your head about it. Play it out, see what happens, and listen to your heart. You don’t have to make any decisions now. Just be happy and enjoy._

_Thanks, Em. I feel like such a bad friend! I didn’t even ask! How’s your trip?_

 

Emma chuckled. She could hear Killian and Liam wrapping up their conversation so she definitely didn’t have time to go into it.

 

_I’ll tell you all about it. It’s actually pretty late here. Probably going to turn in soon._

_Okay. Night! And thanks._

_Any time. Enjoy your evening!_

 

Liam was wrapping up his goodbyes with Killian and concluded with, “And, Emma?”

 

“Yes?” She responded, leaning back into frame.

 

“It was lovely meeting you. My apologies again for my impropriety.” His warm smile was heartfelt and genuine.  
  
“You too. And think nothing of it. Say hi to Elsa for me,” Emma replied with a raise of her eyebrow and a cheeky grin.

 

“Aye, will do. Take care of my little brother, Emma.”

 

“Good- _bye_ , Liam!” Killian groused with a roll of his eyes and ended the call. “Well _that_ certainly is an interesting development,” he commented.

 

“Yeah, seems like they really hit it off!”

 

“You lasses certainly have a fondness for us Jones boys. Can’t say I blame you, we’re pretty irresistible,” Killian lowered his lashes with a devilish grin.

 

Emma rolled her eyes with a huff. He spoke no lie, but she still had to razz him for it. “You are incredibly self-assured, you know that?”

 

“The proof is in the pudding, love,” Killian teased, sliding his tongue across his lip. “Haven’t been able to resist me yet.”

 

“Just shut up and kiss me,” Emma sighed, shaking her head.

 

Killian obliged gladly, reaching above his head to turn off the light.

 

~~~

 

Liam exhaled deeply from his bench and stared out at the Hudson. The crowds of passersby were thinning as the afternoon turned into evening. Some young kids were playing a game resembling tag, mostly running and jumping onto the structures. A few hipsters were taking photographs of the flora and cityscape. Occasionally a couple would walk by hand in hand, and he couldn’t help but recognize the infatuated looks on their faces.

 

The call to Killian had been under the guise of a video postcard from the park, but he had hoped to use that to ease into asking him for counsel regarding Elsa. Despite the indelicate conversation that preceded it, Liam got the perspective he was hoping to glean by talking to his brother. Killian’s perception was accurate, that he’s never gotten worked up like this about another person before. Elsa was utterly unique, and damned if he was going to botch things up by double guessing or being overly cautious. He only had a few days left, and he wasn’t going to squander them.

 

Liam’s knee jerk reaction to his brother’s involvement with Emma was perhaps out of line, but she seemed to take it in stride. He would have liked to ask him more about their involvement, but with Emma within earshot, that conversation would be for another time. He was grateful for Killian’s understanding, and definitely put a pin in a few questions he wanted to ask him later.

 

Liam stood and began his walk toward the wine bar to meet Elsa. He had enough time before six o’clock that hopefully the walk would settle his fluttering stomach and pounding heart. On the contrary; as it turned out both only grew stronger and more noticeable the closer he got to the bar.

 

Elsa fondled the stem of her nearly empty wine glass, her arms folded on the polished dark wood of the bar. For the millionth time, she checked her phone to read the time. 5:57. She shouldn’t be so nervous. It wasn’t like he was late. She just dreaded the idea of him getting there and not seeing her, so she made sure she was early. She only really ordered a drink to occupy her time on the barstool, but she closed the tab so she was free to vacate it the moment Liam walked in the door. Which he was about to do any moment, she was sure of it. _Better check._ 5:59.

 

At least she was able to watch the door out of her peripheral vision, a trick she lovingly stole from Emma.

 

At precisely 6:02, Liam’s tall, strapping frame was silhouetted by the glass front door. Elsa lit up and immediately felt a warmth spread through her chest. She sprung out of the barstool, in as dignified a manner as she could, and made her way towards him.

 

Liam scanned the sizable happy hour crowd, but wasn’t left searching for long. Elsa must have spotted him first because she was already advancing toward him when he found her. Her long blonde hair was partially pinned back to the crown of her head, the rest falling delicately around her shoulders. She tossed a wayward piece out of her face as she walked and stopped in front of him, perhaps standing slightly closer than was necessary.

 

“Hi,” Elsa greeted softly, "Did you find the place okay?"

 

"No problem at all. Once again, your sense of direction has proved impeccable." Liam tipped his head with the compliment. "You look lovely," he couldn't help but add.

 

“Thanks,” Elsa blushed, “Should we go find us a seat? There’s a booth open at the end there,” she pointed out. She did her best to sound as casual as possible about the booth she had been eyeing since she arrived, the small one in the back surrounded by the fewest neighboring tables and least amount of foot traffic.

 

“Lead on, love,” Liam nodded and swung his arm out as a promise to follow.

 

The two slid in their high-backed booth, nestling into the dark, couched leather of the seat. The ambiance of the entire place was warm and intimate.  The exposed brick walls were illuminated by the low light of the candles and Edison bulbs that lit the space. Liam tried not to fidget with the edge of the menu as he made his selection, although it eased his nerves to see out of his periphery that Elsa seemed to be having the same struggle. When the server arrived, they each ordered a glass of wine and agreed on few small plates to share. The server collected their menus, and as soon as he had rounded the corner, Elsa turned to Liam.

 

“Liam, about last night…” Elsa paused, hoping that the words that were about to come out of her mouth sounded as eloquent out loud as they did in her head. Before she got the chance, Liam spoke.

 

“I am so sorry if I overstepped my bounds. I hope I didn’t make you feel-”

 

Elsa softly laid her hand over his on the table to gently interrupt him. The moment their skin made contact, he stopped dead in his tracks.

 

“It’s okay. Really. I’m...I’m really glad you did.” Elsa’s lashes fell against her cheeks, as if she was addressing their hands directly. “It’s not like I hadn’t thought about kissing you...believe me, I had...I just wasn’t brave enough.”

 

Liam exhaled a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, and a very relieved grin sprawled across his face. All his rehearsing had been for naught because he found himself momentarily speechless. “Elsa…” was all he could utter, savoring how naturally her name fell across his lips. He reached his other hand to the table and softly circled his thumb on the back of Elsa’s hand.

 

Elsa closed her eyes and exhaled deeply. What she wanted to say to him was so against her nature, the words felt unfamiliar in her mouth. Maybe if she said it all at once, and very fast, it would be easier to get out.  “Liam, I don’t know what’s going on between us, this thing...I don’t know where this is going, I just know that it’s good and I don’t want to stop.”

 

It wasn’t until she finished speaking that she raised her eyes to his again. What she found there was endless blue depths of tenderness and affection. She had never seen a look like that directed at her before.

 

“I was so afraid I misread you, that my affections were unrequited, especially after you started talking about your sister last night, I feared my presence here was becoming a burden. But as I looked at you there, what I saw in your eyes...I saw just a glimmer of hope. I would have never forgiven myself if I didn’t at least try. You’re unlike any woman I’ve ever met, Elsa. Whatever this is…” He dropped his lids to their clasped hands, squeezing slightly, “I don’t want to stop either.”

 

Elsa felt a twinge spark somewhere deep in her chest, something comforting and scary all at the same time, and it made her smile. “I know there are some hitches, some little logistics to figure out...”

 

“An ocean, for example,” Liam joked, although neither of them found it humorous.

 

“Precisely. So let’s just enjoy ourselves here, now, and we’ll take the rest as it comes.” Elsa lifted her wine glass to toast his, their beverages having arrived completely unnoticed.  

 

Liam met her eyes, and their glasses touched with a melodious clink, sounding slightly magical and a little like hope.

 

The two talked and laughed away the evening with an exhilarating comfort and ease. The newfound contentment between them now that their affections towards one another were out in the open was liberating. They ordered a few more share plates, stretching out a dinner’s worth of food over several hours in their booth, neither wanting to end the evening prematurely.  Eventually, they had prolonged the meal as much as they could justify and decided to move on.  

 

When the check came, Elsa offered to pay, especially having chosen the place, but Liam insisted. It seemed old fashioned, but this felt like their first honest to God date and he was determined to be a gentleman. Elsa conceded on the condition she buy dessert.

 

“How do you feel about ice cream sundaes?” Elsa asked with a quirked eyebrow.

 

“Massive fan,” Liam replied, intrigued.

 

“It’s a bit of a hike from here, but if you trust me, I’ll show you an ice cream sundae you’ll never forget,” Elsa said, standing from their booth and extending her hand.

 

Liam grasped her hand and stood. “I’d go with you anywhere, love.” Her petite palm fit so perfectly in his, he was determined to hold onto it as long as she would have it, unsure if he would ever want to let go.  

 

After a subway ride uptown and a bit of walking, they reached a small, unassuming store front.  Elsa smiled at Liam and led them through the Art Nouveau-style glass front door. The modest size interior was densely decorated with turn of the century accents and an eclectic assortment of stained glass light fixtures. They were seated at a small vintage bistro table next to a giant antique clock.  

 

“I’m not telling you what to do,” Elsa asserted, browsing the menu, “But this place is kind of famous for their frozen hot chocolates.” Liam raised his eyebrow quizzically to which she responded, “I know it’s a contradiction in terms but trust me, it’s amazing.”

 

“Well, now I’m not sure what to think because I’ve been dreaming about an ice cream sundae the whole way here, so I don’t know what to do now,” Liam teased.

 

“How about this, you get whatever sundae you like, and I’ll get the frozen hot chocolate. I promise to share,” Elsa said with a flirtatious smile.  

 

When the server brought their desserts out, Liam’s jaw dropped, and his eyes bugged out of his head. Elsa giggled gleefully, holding her hand up to her mouth in a half-hearted attempt to muffle her laughter. Liam’s was a strawberry cheesecake monstrosity, the glass goblet containing an actual piece of cheesecake, strawberry ice cream and copious toppings. Elsa’s frozen hot chocolate had pretty straight forward ingredients, but the dessert itself was almost the size of her head.

 

Elsa took a sip from the long straw in her dessert while Liam took a heaping spoonful of his.  They each let out a simultaneous hum of delight as they indulged, their sweet-filled mouths curling up at the edges.

 

“I know it’s not chocolate, lass, but you must try this. It’s divine,” Liam encouraged. He loaded a very meticulous sampling of each of the ingredients on his spoon and offered it to Elsa.

 

She delicately accepted the bite, trying and failing not to do so in a provocative manner. She abandoned all pretense and licked a stray bit of whipped cream from the corner of her mouth, trying not to relish Liam’s slight shifting in his seat as she did so.

 

“God, that is good,” Elsa sighed with delight. “If you’re at all a fan of chocolate, you’re going to want to get in on some of this.” She turned one of the straws from her goblet in his direction.

 

Turnabout being fair play, Liam subtly wrapped his lips around the straw, his eyes never leaving Elsa’s. He extended her the dignity of not pointing out how her jaw slacked slightly has he did so. “You weren’t kidding, that’s incredible,” Liam nodded, catching the remnants of chocolate from his lower lip with his tongue.

 

They made as respectable an effort as they could to work their way through the mammoth desserts, but eventually had to tap out.  Stuffed to the brim, they requested the bill. Liam made one last ditch offer to pay, but Elsa held him to his word, and he surrendered. They left the restaurant hand in hand and began their walk to the subway at a slightly more sluggish pace than they had before.

 

Exiting the subway station back in the East Village, Elsa considered precisely how long it would take to reach the apartment. The walk was not nearly as long as she wanted the evening to last. “I’m still so full from dessert, I could stand to walk a bit more. Fancy a walk in the park?” she proposed.

 

“I would love nothing more,” Liam responded, grateful for any way to extend the evening.

 

They reached the wrought iron entrance to the park. The street lamps cast a romantic glow on the footpaths and paver stone encircled trees. They followed the walking paths that were laid out in a spoke and wheel orientation, strolling past a playground, a few rose gardens, and a few monuments that doubled as water fountains. Neither paid very close attention to the surroundings, only with as much awareness as was necessary to not bump into an obstacle.

 

Elsa was adept and maneuvering about the city, a keen awareness regarding which parts of town were safe to be in and when. While she was not fearful for their safety, the hour was getting late, and she didn’t want to press their luck. “Perhaps we should be getting back,” Elsa suggested.

 

Liam had noticed that they had passed the same landmarks a few times already, but was disinclined to mention it. But considering the time and Elsa’s judgment, he agreed.

 

Elsa’s nerves fluttered in her stomach like a schoolgirl with a crush as they entered the apartment. This was the first time they would be alone since the confession of their feelings for one another. Her amorous jitters were warring with her fierce pragmatism. _Don’t rush, he’s not going anywhere. Well, yet._

 

Liam locked the front door, securing them safely for the night. He had barely turned around before Elsa was lacing her fingers with his.  

 

“I had a really great time tonight,” she whispered.

 

“As did I,” Liam murmured low, his eyes tracing her face. The last time he kissed her, he wasn’t sure how she felt. Now that he knew, he was searching her eyes for a whole new kind of confirmation.

 

Elsa raised herself up on her toes and pressed her lips to his, releasing his hands and bringing her arms up around his neck. Liam’s arms encircled her waist, embracing her with fervor like she was the most precious thing he had ever held. Her fingers threaded through his curls as she moaned softly, curving her body into his. The sensation of his mouth on hers, his tongue gliding across her lips reverently requesting access, his strong arms and broad hands ardently cradling her lithe body was so distinctly above and beyond anything she had ever felt before. It was as if kissing him erased all memory of any kiss she had ever had prior. The tenderness, passion and sincerity that Liam could communicate with just a look was amplified many times over in his touch.

 

Liam slowly brought his lips back from Elsa’s, but his forehead remained pressed to hers. “I think,” he whispered, taking a moment to breathe, “I think perhaps we should say goodnight.”

 

Elsa pulled away enough to see his eyes, her wrists still cradled at the back of his neck.  “Goodnight?” she parroted, confused, unsure if she heard him correctly.

 

“Aye. Please don’t mistake my meaning. I want you, Elsa. God, so much.” His hands traveled from the small of her back around her waist to gently grip her hips. “But I want to do right by you. I’m not going to let some ticking clock make my decisions for me. I want to be with you and rushing things isn’t necessary to keep me around. I’m not going anywhere,” he assured.

 

Elsa felt tears prick the corners of her eyes. Utterly speechless, she leaned up for one last, soft kiss, and drew her hand down the side of his neck to caress the scruff of his jaw. “Goodnight, Liam,” she whispered, delicately trailing her fingers down his cheek and back to herself. She met his eyes with a longing gaze she had never possessed before and turned with a blush back to her room.

  
Liam remained rooted to the spot as he watched her figure disappear behind her door. He exhaled deeply, then instinctively drew his tongue across his lips, savoring the last remaining taste of Elsa’s. He prided himself on being a man of honor, and though it would try his more primal urges, he knew what he stood to gain by keeping them at bay far outweighed any transitory discomfort. With a deep revitalizing breath, he returned to his room.  Sleep would come easily knowing that Elsa’s affections were returned, and he could start a new day in a world where the pull he felt in his heart was not unrequited.


	8. Chapter 8

 

Emma gently roused to a symphony like she had never heard, certainly not at such an early hour. A chorus of seabirds and a gentle lapping of water against the hull was quite possibly the most pleasing sound she could have possibly woken up to. Thin streams of daylight crept in through the porthole windows. A delicate smile grew across her lips as she lay on her side, shamelessly staring at her sleeping bedmate.

 

Killian’s dark lashes lay peacefully against his tan cheeks. One of his arms was shoved firmly beneath his head under the pillow, the other lay haphazardly over his exposed stomach. The blanket only barely offered him a modicum of modesty, draped deliciously low across his hips. His sculpted chest rose and fell with slow, peaceful breaths. Emma wasn't sure she had ever woken to a more beautiful sight.

 

Her willpower finally snapped when the temptation to reach out and trace his scruff-covered jaw became too much. As her fingers drew down his face, Killian inhaled deeply, and his lips curved up slightly at the corners. He craned his neck, nestling his cheek firmly into Emma's hand.

 

"Just can't keep your hands off me, can you, lass?" Killian cheeked, without even opening his eyes.

 

"Just admiring the view," Emma sighed. An appreciation of aesthetic beauty was in no way weakness of character, so she couldn't be blamed for acknowledging it.

 

Killian turned his body in Emma’s direction and cracked his eyes open. He met Emma’s more closely than he anticipated, their noses almost brushing. "The view's pretty nice from here, too," he replied with a lopsided grin.

 

"I can see why you like it out here," Emma returned, dodging the obvious compliment. "Not a bad way to wake up," she added with a nod towards the porthole indicating the peaceful morning harbor atmosphere.

 

"Aye, it's unlike anything else," Killian sighed dreamily. "Nothing starts your day off right like filling your lungs with salt air before breakfast."

 

"Speaking of breakfast..." Emma trailed off. She wasn't one for making demands, she prided herself on being self-sufficient. But she was famished and had no intention of leaving Killian's boat just yet.

 

Killian lay still for a moment, processing the non-question. So far, he had woken up with Emma twice, once awkwardly and the other embarrassingly (on her part). Both times he missed the opportunity to wake up beside her. He couldn't decide which he wanted more, to lay in bed all morning by her side, or to seize the invitation for breakfast, something he wasn't sure that the skittish Emma from last night would have stuck around for. Ultimately, his own stomach made its preference known.

 

"Well, the galley may not look like much. But for you, milady," he sat up with a wink, "I will prepare a feast." He leaned in and pressed a firm, chaste kiss to her lips before practically bounding out of bed.

 

Emma chuckled with a mix of amusement and confusion. She certainly hadn't expected to be waited upon. She would have been perfectly fine with something small to eat, hardly a feast. But she couldn't help but admire the view of Killian’s unclad form sliding out from under the covers and retrieving some plaid pajama bottoms from a cupboard before making her protestations.

 

"I didn't mean...you don't have to go through all the trouble, I just meant-" she insisted before Killian turned to her to assuage her concern.

 

"It's really no trouble at all. I've got plenty of provisions here and I'm an excellent cook. Besides, I prefer the dress code here to any establishment in town," he relayed with a roguish grin, slipping into the low slung pants. He forwent a shirt for himself, but retrieved an old tee for Emma from the drawer. “If you like,” he said softly, laying the proffered clothing at the foot of the bed. He strode across the cabin to the galley, missing Emma’s reddening cheeks and fallen lashes, but he could tell she was smiling.

 

Donning his shirt, she couldn’t help but take a deep whiff of the fabric, because God help her it smelled so much like him it made her head spin. It was hardly a gown - an old shirt that barely grazed the tops of her thighs - but she had never felt more like a princess. She tried to push the implications of all her blushing and heart fluttering aside until at least after breakfast. Then she may have the wherewithal to untangle how much trouble she was in, but secretly enjoyed.  She still had a few days to rationalize her way around all of this, but for now she decided to just enjoy.

 

“Can I help at least?” Emma offered, as she padded toward the galley.  

 

“There isn’t much space for two to work in here, but if you would like to get some cups and plates, they’re in that cupboard there,” Killian indicated toward a cabinet above the counter that could be reached from the other side from where he stood. He pretended not to notice how the hem of his shirt raised just deliciously so as Emma raised up on her tiptoes to reach it.  Not his intention, surely, but it made his blood rush just a little bit faster seeing her do much more justice to that old tee than he ever did.

 

Emma noticed the hodgepodge of drinkware and plates. The unmatched items each seemed to be unique and she surmised they must have been collected over time. She wondered how he came by such a collection, either by random fancy or special significance. The mugs especially seemed to be mostly handmade ceramic, with a stunning array of glazes and designs. She chose a few and brought them down to the counter. Her eye caught an inscription in the bottom of one of the mugs.

 

_Killian, my light, my love,_

_To many adventures together_

_Milah_

 

“Who’s Milah?” Emma asked, her voice coming out more hushed than she intended, afraid of the nature of the answer.

 

Killian froze and set down the pan and the carton of eggs he was holding. He closed his eyes and exhaled deeply. “Someone from long ago,” he murmured, his eyes low as if he was speaking directly to the eggs. He didn’t initially want to elaborate, but when he raised his eyes to meet Emma’s, they were so wide and full of genuine empathy and care, he figured he owed her the truth.

 

“She was an artist. Sketched mostly, but she dabbled in ceramics. She didn’t even want to keep some of these, said they were too misshapen or the glaze didn’t come out right.” A sad half smile curved the edges of Killian’s lips with a barely audible chuckle. “She had quite the thirst for adventure. We had all sorts of plans to see the world together, but never really got the chance.”  Killian closed his eyes and tried not to relive the worst day of his life, the one he worked so hard to move past. “We were out on a jog one day and suddenly, she just collapsed. Heart failure. Something undiagnosed that neither of us saw coming…” he trailed off, holding the edge of the counter with both hands.

 

“I’m sorry,” Emma whispered. Her heart broke for him. She learned to keep people at arm’s length to protect herself for exactly this reason. _Look out for yourself and you’ll never get hurt._  But here was this man, this captivating, perfect, compassionate man with a vibrant spirit that kept losing anyone he opened his heart to.

 

“Don’t be,” Killian returned, meeting her eyes again with a soft smile. “I was lucky to have had the time with her that I did. Here,” he swapped the mug for one from the cabinet, this one store bought, with a compass design on the side. “Do you prefer Earl Grey or Vanilla?” he offered, moving along with breakfast preparations.

 

“Vanilla sounds great,” Emma replied. She didn’t need to hear any more to understand all that was necessary. For as few days as she had known Killian, she knew him more intimately than anyone she had been close to in years. It scared her just how natural it felt. Her painstakingly built walls were her fortress, but Killian effortlessly began bringing them down from the moment they met. Her inclination to let him was precisely the reason why she must not. She smiled wistfully at the bewitching man before her. She wanted to play out this fantasy as long as she could, like a dream from which she didn’t want to wake, but knew she inevitably must.

 

Killian plugged in the electric kettle and flicked the power switch. While the water was coming up to temperature, he continued his breakfast preparations. He produced a loaf of bread and removed a slice. On a cutting board, he used one of the still empty cups to punch out a hole from the center of the bread. Emma seemed perplexed by this, much to Killian's pleasure. It would make the finished product all the more impressive. He placed the frame of bread and its cut-out center on the now heated pan.

 

Since she walked into his life only a few days ago (or more accurately, he drunkenly stumbled into hers), Emma breathed a whole new energy into Killian’s life. Normally, when his thoughts drifted to Milah, his heart hurt and his mind spun gradually into regrets and despair. But somehow, Emma's presence was like a balm on his wounds, as if they had only just now begun to heal. He looked up periodically, and his heart warmed at the sight of her perched on his settee, wearing his shirt and a smile that he knew was just for him. He tried not to let the sheer comfort and domesticity of the morning’s events allow his imagination run away with him.  

 

Emma heard the click of the kettle and took it upon herself to pour the hot water over the teabags in their mugs. She had always been more of a coffee drinker, but after a few mornings over tea with Killian, she was sure she would return home a tea enthusiast.

 

Killian focused on the next crucial step of his breakfast concoction, cracking an egg in the hole made in the center of the bread. After a few minutes of gentle crackling of butter and a particularly artful flip of the pan to toast the other side, Killian served Emma’s plate with a flourish.

 

“For the lady, a perfect Egg in the Basket, if I do say so myself,” Killian announced with a proud, toothy grin.

 

“Where’s yours?” Emma wondered, feeling slightly guilty about being waited on.  

 

“I’ll make mine next. Pan’s only big enough for one at a time. Please, eat while it’s still warm,” Killian insisted. His home life had been tailored for bachelorhood for so long he forgot what it was like to cook for two. _Ladies first_ applied to all things, including breakfast.

 

They sipped their tea and spoke of much more lighthearted fare. Killian soon joined her with his own breakfast, and they sat comfortably like they had shared a thousand meals together. Emma told Killian all about her favorite greasy spoons in New York. Killian regaled Emma with a few tales of his own cooking feats and mishaps. He made sure to also toss Liam under the bus with a choice retelling of his brother's first attempt at pancakes, which somehow almost burned the house down.

 

"Speaking of Liam," Emma paused to consume the last bite of her toast, "Seems like Elsa’s pretty taken with him."

 

"Aye. And he with her. On the rare occasion he takes his head out of his own arse long enough to get involved with a woman, he's always so calculated and conscientious, sometimes it's hard to tell if he actually likes the lass. But the way he talks about your flatmate..." Killian shook his head and his eyebrows drew towards his hairline, baffled, "It's like he's never been more taken with anyone in his entire life. She must be quite the singular woman to make him fall this hard this fast." He tried not to look Emma too deeply in the eyes as he spoke, lest his words reveal the uncanny similarity to his own heart.

 

"I don't know if I've ever heard Elsa talk about anyone the way she talked about him. She's always so selfless, looking out for everyone else except herself. She has such a big heart, I'm glad to see she's opening up to sharing it with someone." Emma smiled softly at Killian. She genuinely was happy for her friend, and wanted Killian to know his brother was in good hands. What she saw in his eyes was an unmistakable hopeful glimmer penetrating her soul. It broke her heart that she knew she would inevitably be the one to snuff it out. She knew what was coming, what she had to do.

 

"Are you working today?" She inquired, wondering what sort of time table she was working with.

 

"Aye, but it's a short shift. I'll need to make my leave fairly soon, but you're welcome to stay," he offered, "The Jolly Roger is at your disposal. Make yourself at home and stay as long as you like." Emma shifted in her seat slightly and concern began to bubble in his heart at her non-response. "The neighboring beach is quite lovely, or there's a few good cafés nearby," he tried to list as many appealing options for her to occupy her time until his shift was over. Emma’s disquiet was subtle, but she was quite an open book. He feared their contentment was dissolving before his eyes. She was pulling away, the same way she recoiled the night before when he left her at her doorstep. He hoped today she would at least stay in close proximity so he could rejoin her sooner.

 

"That's okay," Emma kindly rejected, "I should get back to the house. I'll probably just grab a shower and go from there. I've got some reading to catch up on and I wanted to check out some shops in town..." Emma trailed off, hearing her own excuses wearing thin. She needed to clear her head about Killian and that prospect seemed overwhelming while she was surrounded by his stuff, his life, his home.

 

"As you wish," Killian resigned. A pang of fear struck his heart, but he knew to push the matter would only drive her further away. "Can I see you tonight?"

 

"I'll call you," Emma responded, the same half-hearted response she gave him last time they parted. He recognized the brush off right away, but that didn't mean he was giving up.

 

Emma stood and gathered their breakfast dishes. She washed them in the sink and laid them back on a drying rack on the counter. The least she could do is clean up after herself before she departed. She didn't need to add dirty dishes to the list of things that she messed up today.

 

Killian dried the the dishes in the rack and returned them to the cupboards from whence they came. He was partially delighted in the comfortable domesticity of the scenario, but when he noticed the tension in Emma's face, the unmistakable look of someone who had made up their mind to run, he felt as if he may wither into the floor. His eyes remained pinned to her as she walked from the galley to the v-berth to collect her clothes. She shimmied into her jeans and crossed her arms on the hem of Killian's shirt to return it. He protruded his hand to protest.

 

"Keep it. You wear it far better than I do anyway." Killian hoped that even though she was determined to leave, she could at least take a piece of him with her. Maybe the reminder would inspire her in some way to soften that outer shell, that protective barrier she seemed to be raising once more.

 

Emma acquiesced with a soft smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. She didn't want to protest too hard, but he wasn't making this easier. And she conceded that she could just leave it in the house where she knew he would find it. She dexterously slid her bra on from under the shirt, recognizing how absurd her modesty seemed at this point, but she did it anyway, then shoved her remaining articles into her purse and slung it over her shoulder.

 

"Let me walk you out." Killian opened the hatch to the companionway, and they both squinted at the flood of sunlight pouring in. As their eyes adjusted, Killian led Emma up the ladder to the deck. He disembarked first and extended a hand to help her step onto the dock.

 

As her feet hit the planks, she stood fused to the dock. Her own body was protesting taking a single step away from Killian, but that voice was back in her head. _Go, now, before you hurt him any more than you already have. This will only end in ruin, so nip it in the bud and go._

Killian’s heart pounded with trepidation as Emma’s lips parted slightly, but her words did not come right away. He searched her face for any sign of wavering, that she might reconsider.

 

“Thanks for a great night. I…I had a really good time.” Her voice faltered just enough to betray her, but any words she could have used to explain failed her completely. This is precisely the reason she was a woman of action, not talk. She raised up on her toes slightly and pressed a parting kiss to his lips, hoping to convey what words could not. That she had to leave, but it was not without remorse. It was best this way, for her to leave now before she became the next on his list of people to leave him, to break his heart. She was only able to break the kiss far enough to part their lips, but her hands remained splayed on his chest, their foreheads touching. Before Killian opened his eyes, she could only whisper, “Bye,” before tearing herself away, twirling on her heel. She willed her feet to carry her swiftly down the dock. She was convinced if she turned around to steal a parting glance, the sight of him would crumble her resolve entirely..

 

Killian could still feel the ghost touch where her hands laid on his chest as he watched Emma’s nimble frame practically sprint away from him. He knew she had fears, he knew she was closed off, she told him as much in the short time they’d spent together. He had hoped that her openness with him, her softening facade was an indication that he was different, that he could be the one to bring down those walls. He had never met anyone like Emma Swan and he wouldn’t let her go without a fight, even if it meant watching her walk away in that moment.

 

~~~

 

Details of Liam’s surroundings slowly came into focus as he slowly returned to consciousness. The softness of Emma’s floral sheets. The warmth that radiated under the cocoon of blankets. The subtle sounds of someone moving about in the kitchen. _Elsa_. A contented smile of delight sprawled across his face as he stretched, preparing for a new day, one he would gladly begin and end with her. Hopefully the first of many. He tried not to let his ambitions run away with him quite this early, and instead focused on the more immediate goal of putting on clothes and brushing his teeth.

 

Elsa heard the creak of the door to Emma’s room and her pulse instantly quickened with anticipation. He had an effect on her that she had never felt before and, despite being a bit scary, it was not at all unwelcome. She had tried not to disturb him, hoping the bubbling of the coffee maker or the crackling of the pan on the stove wouldn’t wake him, but all she could think about was how eager she was to see him.

 

“Good morning, love,” Liam greeted, toothy grin splitting his face. “Although I’m not entirely sure I’ve actually woken. Surely, this is still a dream. I am privileged to wake up and see your beautiful smile, but breakfast too? You could spoil a man.”

 

“Good morning to you, too!” Elsa chirped, unashamed by the blush that had reddened her cheeks. “I just thought it might be nice and I was up anyway, so…” she modestly tried to downplay her efforts. “I hope you like bacon and eggs. It’s nothing fancy.”

 

“I have no doubt in my mind it will be delicious. Thank you, darling.” Liam slowly moved into Elsa’s personal space as he spoke. She instinctively craned her neck toward him, her breath hitching.

 

Liam closed the distance between them, unsure which was more thrilling - how perfectly her body fit against his, the touch of her fair cheek in his hand, or how easy and comfortable this closeness felt between them. Her icy blue eyes sparkled as they met his. He leaned in and pressed a tender kiss to her lips, an intoxicating experience he hoped to repeat many mornings after. Her slender arms snaked around his waist and he couldn’t help but feel a swell of hope in his chest.  

 

Elsa reluctantly pulled away, reveling in the lingering tingle on her lips from the kiss. “I think I have to flip the bacon,” her voice cracked, “I don’t want it to burn.”

 

“Too right, lass,” Liam’s heart warmed at her small gesture. “I would hate to spoil your generous efforts.”

 

Elsa gave him a quick squeeze before releasing her arms and grasping the tongs on the counter. As began delicately flipping each sizzling piece in the cast iron skillet, Liam reached into the cabinet above the coffee maker.

 

“I noticed you don’t have a cup yet. Would you like one?” Liam asked.

 

_Of course he noticed_ , Elsa chuckled. _Observant and thoughtful._ “Yes, please.”

 

“You take milk and sugar, if memory serves?” Liam asked, filling a pair of mugs.

 

“Good memory,” Elsa replied. God, how many ways was this man going to sweep her off her feet today? They haven’t even made it to breakfast yet.

 

Liam prepared their steaming beverages and set the table.  Elsa spooned the piping hot scrambled eggs from their pan and laid a few strips of crispy bacon alongside on each plate.

 

“This looks wonderful, thank you.” Liam tipped his head toward her. “Perhaps I may reciprocate and treat you tomorrow?”

 

“I’d like that.” Elsa smiled and raised her coffee to toast.  Liam returned the gesture, and they clinked their mugs before taking a tentative sip of their still hot drinks.

 

The two chatted over breakfast, after which they cleaned up in effortless synergy. The dishwasher was loaded, and the kitchen was spotless once more.

 

“What’s on your agenda today, love? Further job seeking efforts?” Liam asked.

 

“I have to drop off a few more applications. I’m mostly waiting for phone calls at this point. I was actually thinking it might be fun to check out the New York Public Library. It’s really incredible and they do tours. I can drop my stuff off while we’re out.” The library was so lush with history, both the collection and the architecture, she loved visiting there. There was something magical about plucking a book off those ancient shelves and poring over pages worn with time surrounded by the dark wood and ample sunlight streaming in from the large arched windows of the high-ceilinged reading room.

  
“Sounds perfect,” Liam replied agreeably.

 

“Great, let me just go get ready.” Elsa dashed off to her room, eager to start the day as soon as possible. She changed out of her torn jeans and tank top into a breezy sundress. It was comfy enough to spend all day in, but she knew Liam would get a kick out of it. She touched up her makeup and quickly twisted her hair into a loose french braid.

 

She emerged from her room to see that Liam had changed too, into a baby blue short-sleeved collared shirt with swiss dots and well-fitting chino shorts. He must have had a similar idea to torture her because while he was dressed sensibly for their long day ahead, he looked delicious. She particularly admired the single roll of the sleeves that delectably encircled his solid arms and she issued a silent _thank you_ in praise of the flattering cuts of British men’s fashion.

 

“Ready?” She asked, unwilling (and unable) to hide the grin on her face.

 

“Aye,” Liam replied, extending his hand. Elsa’s fingers threaded smoothly and effortlessly into his. It was like two halves of a whole were united when their palms were pressed together. The two left the apartment and began their walk toward the subway.

 

On the train, there was a new closeness, an air between them giving them permission to sit as closely as they wanted, and not let go of their hands if they didn’t. Liam couldn’t help but think back to the couples he saw on the High Line just the day before and how envious he was of their open, easy affection. If he was honest, he didn’t feel the least bit guilty about walking all the way across the subway car to a pair of forward facing seats instead of grabbing the first available seats along the windows. They sat side by side, their legs in contact from hip to knee as their clasped hands rested gently on Elsa’s lap. He was grinning like the cat that ate the canary and didn’t try to hide it one bit.

 

Elsa looked down at Liam’s hand in her lap, their fingers intertwined. On all those countless subway trips alone spent with earbuds jammed in her ears, nose buried in a book, she had never imagined she would be sitting here like this. The feel of Liam’s six-foot frame pressed into her side, his hand tenderly grasping hers, she was still mystified how lucky she was that this incredible man stumbled into her life and that he was hers to hold as long and as closely as she wished.

 

They exited the train at Grand Central and navigated the throngs of people traveling in every whichway. Suddenly, an idea dawned on Elsa. Mirth sparkled in her eyes as she remembered something about where they were. “Come on, I want to show you something,” she said, gripping Liam’s hand tighter, abruptly leading him in different direction.

 

“What is it, lass?” Liam asked, bemused.

 

“You’ll see,” Elsa teased.

 

Elsa led them to the food concourse. Liam didn’t notice anything particularly remarkable about it, and they were far too early for lunch. If he was confused before, he was utterly perplexed as they approached an open area with an arched ceiling where she walked them straight into the corner of a wall.

 

“Wait here,” Elsa instructed, releasing his hand.

 

“What-” Liam turned to ask as she began to walk away.

 

“Turn around!” Elsa instructed with a giggle. Her hand playfully shoved his back, so he was facing the corner like a child in time-out. His nose was practically touching the wall, and although he felt absolutely ridiculous, he was too intrigued by her insistence to disobey.

 

Elsa practically skipped across the open area to the opposing corner, a good thirty feet away, and faced the wall herself. She had heard about this phenomenon before but had never tried it herself. “Hi, Liam,” she uttered softly into the wall.

 

Liam’s head whipped around behind him, dumbfounded as her voice hit his ears. He had to try it. “Hello, love,” he responded, his amusement traveling along with his words. “How are you doing that?”

 

“It’s called the Whispering Walls. The walls are shaped in such a way that they focus the soundwaves. Pretty cool, right?”  
  


“Aye,” Liam chuckled. For such an inconspicuous space, it really was quite fascinating.

 

“Liam, I’m really glad you’re here,” Elsa murmured earnestly. The clandestine aspect of the sound inspired her sincere confession.

 

“Elsa, since I met you, there’s nowhere else I would rather be than by your side,” Liam replied. He awaited her response, eyes fixed on the corner just inches from the end of his nose. The silence lasted longer than expected, and his nerves began to spark, wondering if he had said too much. “Elsa?” He implored into the wall.

 

He nearly leapt out of his skin when he felt a delicate hand snake up his shoulder. As he whirled around in surprise, Elsa’s arms flew around his neck, and she and crashed into him with a searing kiss. He practically stumbled back into the very corner he had just been speaking to. His heart was flooded with reassuring emotion. His affection for this surprising, singular woman was overwhelming. His arms encircled her in embrace, almost lifting her up off the ground.

 

Elsa broke the kiss and gazed up into Liam’s impossibly blue eyes, which were twinkling with something she didn’t want to jinx by naming. “You’re wonderful,” she professed. She wanted to look him in the face when she said so, sonic waves traveling by architectural happenstance just wouldn’t do. He smiled back at her, speechless, before she spoke again. “Come on, let’s go.” She planted her feet firmly back on the floor and ran her hand down his arm, finding his hand.

 

The two proceeded through the station to the street level. After crossing the street to the front of the library, Liam stopped to take in the Classical marble facade. The iconic stone lions flanked the main stairway to the entrance. “What a magnificent library,” he remarked. “The lions make quite the statement.”

 

“They’re named Patience and Fortitude. I kind of love that.” Sometimes Elsa couldn’t help her teacher voice from coming out, interjecting factoids whenever she could. But the minute the lions’ names fell from her lips, she considered the uncanny significance of the words. _How poetic_ , she thought to herself. As she looked up at Liam, the smile on his face told her the relevance was not lost on him either.

 

In that moment, she wasn’t pretending that they didn’t have challenges ahead, escaping the impending terminus of their blissful time together. She was facing the days to come with courage and confidence that they could face anything. She wasn’t giving up on them, and if Liam’s whispered confession was any indication, he wasn’t either. It would be challenging, perhaps even painful at times, but she was willing to endure whatever it took not to lose him. To spend one more day with Liam Jones would be worth any number of days they would have to spend apart.

 

Liam gave Elsa’s hand a knowing squeeze as they ascended the stairs and entered the library. They decided on doing the self-guided audio tour, the best way to take in the history at their own pace and without a crowd of strangers. They picked up their devices from the visitor’s desk and queued up the introduction. They each poised their fingers over their _play_ buttons.

 

“Three, two, one,” Liam counted down, and on _zero_ , they each pressed play and listened to the first prompt of the tour. The pair wandered idly throughout the library, following the placards and syncing their audio prompts until they entered the breathtaking Rose Main Reading Room. Its soaring ceilings opened the space to the lush bookshelf-lined perimeter. The ornate chandeliers and immense arched windows bathed the space in an effulgent glow.

 

Elsa loved the feeling that swelled in her chest whenever she entered this room, but seeing the wonder in Liam’s face raised the bar. She was so glad she could share this with him, thrilled that he was as affected by the space as she was. They wandered through the remainder of the tour, admiring the murals and architecture, as well as the unique collections. Liam was enthralled by the Gutenberg Bible, as well as the impressive collection in the Map Division.

 

As they returned their audio devices, Elsa checked pulled out her phone to check the time. She blinked at the notification that showed three new messages from Emma. Her phone had been on silent, and she was so engrossed she must have missed the vibration alert.

 

_Hey Elsa_

_I’m sorry to bother you, I’m sure you’re with Liam right now._

_Do you have a minute?_

 

Elsa’s brows knit together in concern for her friend. The messages were timestamped about fifteen minutes apart, so whatever it was must still be bothering her. She typed out her response.

 

_Sure, what’s up?_

 

Emma’s reply came through impressively quickly, telling as to how urgent the matter was.

 

_Can we talk? Do you have wifi right now?_

 

She actually did, thanks to the library. She was pretty sure in Emma’s impromptu trip preparations she hadn’t gotten an international calling plan so she was very thankful for the app they both used to communicate over wifi.

 

“Hey, Liam,” Elsa gently ran her hand down Liam’s arm. “Emma’s messaging me, and it sounds like it’s pretty important. Would you mind if I got back to her and see what’s going on?”

 

“Of course, love. Take all the time you need. There’s plenty for me to entertain myself here,” he replied, nodding towards one of the largest libraries in the world.

 

“Thanks for understanding,” she replied. She rose up on her toes to press a chaste kiss to his lips. “I’m just going to sit outside at the tables on the terrace. I’ll come find you when I’m done.” She gave his arm a parting squeeze and smiled before turning to exit the library.

 

Liam stood marveling at her as she glided out the door. Elsa’s selfless, compassionate heart for those she cared about would never fail to amaze him. He sighed a deep breath of contentment then headed back into the library to explore.

 

Elsa found a table outside close enough to the building to pick up a decent wifi signal. She popped her earbuds in and tapped Emma’s contact to initiate a video call.  Emma’s face popped up, and Elsa was flooded with concern. Her friend’s face was clearly strained, her efforts at a contrived smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes told of her unease.

 

“Hey Em, what’s going on? You okay?” Elsa asked, but perceptively noticed she wasn’t.

 

“Yeah...I mean, no. I don’t know…” Emma trailed off. “Are you outside? Where are you?”

 

“Library. Liam and I just did the audio tour. I’ve been here a thousand times but never done it. It was really interesting!” Elsa remarked, but cut right to the quick. “Tell me what’s up.”

 

Emma took a deep breath, collecting her thoughts and her words. “It’s Killian. I don’t know what to do. I mean, I do, but I don’t know if I’m right.” Elsa hadn’t seen her this addled by a guy since, really, ever. She’d helped Emma through a rough breakup or two for sure, but this was different. She was conflicted. If she knew anything of Emma Swan, whether her stance was she was right or wrong, she always was self-assured. The shifty woman on her screen was tied up in knots and it was serious.

 

“What happened?” Elsa inquired, settling in her chair.

 

Emma chugged like a freight train through her retelling of the last day and a half with Killian, how incredible sailing with him was, how much fun they had, and how all of that came crashing down when she discovered the handprints. Elsa tried to conceal the endearment on her face when she thought about Liam’s little handprint in the cement.

 

“It just, he has a whole life here, you know? History. A family. Roots. I don’t even know what that’s like! And here I come barreling in here to mess all that up. He cares so much. He has such a big heart. He doesn’t know how to love halfway,” Emma looked like she may have tripped over that big word a bit, but forged ahead, “I’m leaving in a few days. What am I supposed to do?”

 

“What do you _want_ to do?” Elsa asked. It was pretty clear, but she hoped Emma would arrive there by answering a direct question.

 

“What I want doesn’t matter. I _can’t_. Everyone he cares about leaves him. And I’m just going to be another on that list. He hasn’t had a real relationship in years, because his last one _died_.”

 

Emma charged on, telling her about Milah’s death, how they had all these great plans for a life together, and she was ripped away from him with no warning.

 

“I just can’t do that to him. At least Milah had intentions to have a life with him. She didn’t leave him on purpose, and he was devastated. What is going to happen when I leave? It wouldn’t be fair for me to spend all this time with him, then just go back to my life. When he looks at me, I just…” Emma stopped abruptly, shaking her head and turned her eyes toward the ceiling like it might deliver some clarity.

 

From what Emma described, it sounded like she saw a similar glint in Killian’s eyes as Elsa saw in Liam’s, the one that made her skin tingle and her heart melt. “Can you? Just go back to your life? Just like that?” Elsa probed. Emma was so concerned for Killian, she didn’t seem to be entertaining any notion for the sake of her own heart.

 

“How can I?  What would I do, _stay_?” Emma postulated, bewildered.

 

Elsa raised an eyebrow in response, not immediately dismissing the suggestion.

 

“And then what?” Emma asked, picking up her meaning precisely. “I stick around for a few more, what, days? Weeks? He gets tired of me or comes to his senses about how broken I am, and now we’ve just spent all this time only to end up mashed up and hurt.”

 

“Why do you say that like that’s the only outcome? Sounds to me like he really cares for you. I think you’re selling yourself short. As usual, by the way.” Elsa offered. Emma always criticized herself so harshly, Elsa hoped one day she would see what a truly good person she was, that she was capable of giving (and receiving) love.

 

“How else could this end, besides in flames? He’s so wonderful, Elsa. He’s the most perfect, amazing, complicated, wonderful person I have ever met. Why would a person like that want to be with me?”  
  
“Have you asked him?” Elsa asked the obvious question.

 

Emma blinked, stunned. “No,” she conceded.

 

“Then how could you possibly know? Seems like the only one who can answer that is him, but you haven’t given him the opportunity. You’re making the decision for him. For the both of you.”

 

“Isn’t that easier, though? A clean break?” Emma implored.

 

“That’s not for you to decide! Give him a chance, Em. He might surprise you.” Elsa hoped she could inspired Emma to at least be open to the possibility. “Do you want to know what I think?”

 

“Please,” Emma visibly sagged, desperate for some sort of insight or relief.

 

“You're just protecting yourself with that wall you put up,” Elsa gently asserted.  “By making a clean break, you’re doing what you always do which is not get emotional and stop anything before it has a chance to blow up in your face. But that wall of yours, it may keep out pain, but it also may keep out love.”

 

Emma’s eyes fell and her lack of a retort confirmed that she knew Elsa was right.

 

“Look, I’m not saying it’s love, I’m not saying it’s forever. I’m just saying you’ll never know if you don’t at least try. Let me ask you this. If you met him here, or if you lived there, would you end it like this?”

 

“No,” Emma affirmed.

 

“Then you figure out the rest. Don’t deny yourself something special. You have to love yourself Emma. The good, the bad. Embrace who you are and accept that someone else might want to as well. It’s time to stop being afraid.’’

 

Emma’s lips parted slightly without a sound. Elsa watched her posture straighten, and she tossed her hair in that way she usually did right before she took action.

 

“You’re such a good friend. I don’t know what I would do without you.”  
  


“Luckily that’s not going to happen. You’re stuck with me,” Elsa smiled reassuringly.  “But that being said, I am leaving you. I think you know what to do, and I won’t enable you by dragging on this conversation any longer. Promise me you’ll talk to him?”

 

“I promise. Thank you, Elsa. Truly.” Emma’s smile was genuine, full and determined, a far cry from the face that was there at the outset of their conversation.

 

“Any time. Later,” Elsa waved her fingers next to her face to fit in the camera.

 

“Bye,” Emma replied, before her finger came into view and ended the call.

 

Elsa nodded with a self-satisfied grin, hopeful for Emma. She returned her phone and strode back into the library to reunite with the other Jones brother, the one that had stolen her heart in kind.

 

 


	9. Chapter 9

Killian slogged through what felt unequivocally like the longest shift of his life. The boat owners’ various requests and grievances dulled in comparison. Emma was out there, her precious time here dwindling, and he couldn’t find himself caring one iota about the seasonal berth holder’s broken transom light or the complaints that there were no trolleys for people to use (because there bloody well should be if people would return them after use).

 

Even his co-workers seemed to be steering well clear of him. With determination in his eyes and fire in his heart, he wasn’t surprised when his patience wore thin with trivialities. He was working out a plan, something to say or do that would reopen the door that Emma had seemed to slam shut when she walked down the dock this morning.

 

He knew she had walls; that she was fiercely protective of herself, of her heart. He understood because it’s what he’s been doing since Milah died, maybe even longer. He’d shut himself off from the world, never letting anyone in. But this impossible woman, so full of passion and tenderness, opened his eyes and exposed something he never thought he’d be capable of - letting go and believing that he could find someone else. He had resigned himself long ago to the idea that he would never feel that way about anyone again, until he met Emma. Now, after even just a few days, he couldn’t imagine spending his days without her in his life. He wasn’t going to let her go that easily. He wouldn’t leave anything on the table. It really was now or never. He had to tell her how he felt before he didn’t get another chance. He clung to hope with a white-knuckle grip that she would listen.

 

When his work day finally ended, Killian barely even noticed the dull ache in his stomach. It was only on the walk back to the _Jolly_ that the growling of his stomach was loud enough to force the realization he hadn't eaten all day. Descending the hatch into the galley, he mindlessly whipped up something small to eat that could hardly be considered a meal. As long as he consumed enough calories to assuage his hunger, he could get back to the matter at hand. _Emma_. It was either his keen observation or his overactive imagination, but he swore he could still smell her distinctive scent lingering where she sat on the settee.

 

He inhaled something resembling a sandwich and was finishing off some crisps when his phone sparked to life. _1 new message. Sender: Emma Swan_. Killian tried to keep his heart from leaping into his throat, but to no avail. Before even reading the message, his spirit was renewed with hope. _She was reaching out to him._ He read the message and tried to keep that in mind as his eyes flowed over the words with apprehension.

 

_Can you come over? I need to talk to you. Tonight._

 

~~~

 

Elsa found Liam in the reading room, nose glued to an old tome with yellowed edges. As if he could sense her approach, he looked up and smiled with that look that challenged her knees to remember their job. She sauntered over to the chair where he was perched and craned her neck over his shoulder, examining his selection. Her hands caressed his strong shoulders as she leaned in, a slight thrill shooting down her spine as his muscles subtly (but noticeably) responded under her fingers. Whatever it was he was so engrossed in seemed to melt completely out of his consciousness at her touch.

 

“How’s Emma?” Liam asked in a hushed tone so as not to disturb other library patrons.

 

“She’ll be fine. If she doesn’t get in her own way, that is. Seems she cares for your brother quite a lot. So much so, in fact, it’s freaking her out, and she doesn’t know what she’s going to do about it.”

 

“I couldn’t imagine what that’s like,” Liam chortled, his hand reaching up to cover Elsa’s. “A whirlwind romance, a bewitching stranger sweeping you off your feet, making you feel things you didn’t even know your heart was capable of…” His thumb caressed the back of her hand as he spoke. “Sounds like quite the quandary.” He lifted his eyes to meet hers, piercing her with his earnest, crystal blue stare.

 

“Hopefully she realizes that when something like this comes along, no matter how farfetched it may seem or how improbable the circumstances, you fight for it. And you don’t give up.” Elsa leaned down and pressed a delicate kiss to Liam’s lips, hoping to convey her double meaning. While her words were true for Emma as well, she wanted Liam to know how fully committed she was to the idea and how deeply she had taken the sentiment to heart herself.

 

“Aye, couldn’t agree more,” Liam replied, his eyes fluttering open as Elsa broke the kiss. “Where to next, love?”

 

“So far everything we’ve seen has been from the ground level. What do you say we go check out the view from a bit higher up?”

 

“I imagine you have somewhere in mind?”

 

“Come on,” Elsa smirked, offering her hand. Liam stood and clasped her hand, collecting his book with the other. He returned it to the shelf on their way out and they exited the library.  The distance was only a few blocks to the Empire State Building and they were in no real hurry, so they savored the walk.

 

~~~

 

Emma obsessively reread Killian’s text response and constantly calculated the difference between the timestamp of the message and the clock.

 

_I’ll be right there._

 

He had responded shockingly quickly and without question. Emma didn’t know how long it would take for him to get there, but the frenzy of questions in her mind shattered like broken glass when she heard the doorbell.

 

Emma tugged slightly on the hem of her top as she approached the door and tried to flatten imaginary creases from her pant legs. She smoothed her recently showered hair in the entryway mirror, accomplishing absolutely nothing. Her eyelids fell closed and she exhaled deeply, clearing her mind of the jitters that had churned her up over the last few hours.

 

Opening the door was like the sun coming out, even though it was already dark outside. The light emanating from Killian’s face as he laid eyes on her made her heart swell and her nerves quiet.

 

“Swan,” he uttered with that blinding grin. Emma wasn’t sure she would ever get over the way Killian’s lips and his accent curled around her name.

 

“Hi,” Emma breathed out, barely above a whisper. “I...uh...do you...come in?” she stammered, only loosely regaining the power of speech. She opened the door to allowed Killian to enter. When he passed, and she was safely out of his peripheral view, she rolled her eyes, admonishing herself for the imbecilic way she sounded. _Get a grip, Emma._  It was a different voice in her head than the old familiar one that told her to run. This one was stronger. Her self-confidence finally was drowning out her self-doubt.

 

Killian entered the house with a few paces then turned to Emma, to read her. He waited with bated breath for her to make the first move. It seemed to take an exorbitant amount of concentration for her to close and lock the door, but when she turned around, her words tumbled out quickly and decisively. “Do you want something to drink?”

 

“Sure,” Killian replied. He would be glad for a little liquid courage, and it seemed Emma would too. The air between them was thick with all the pent up things they each had to say but had yet to utter.

 

Emma led them into the kitchen, groping in the cabinet for two glasses. She reached up for the bottle of rum, the same one they had shared on the night they met, and poured them each a drink.  Killian marveled at the way she moved about with her preparations. Like a dance. She floated with her movements, and the way her fingers gently grasped the rim of the glass as she offered it to him was nearly enough to make him put the damn thing down and kiss her senseless.

 

Instead, he accepted the proffered glass and tipped his head in gratitude. She raised her own to clink against his, then took a healthy sip.

 

“Should we sit?” Emma suggested, tossing her head toward the living room.

 

“After you, love,” Killian returned, and Emma led them to the couch. Emma took another long gulp before setting her drink on the coffee table and perching on the couch. Killian sat beside her, opening his body toward her, unguarded, exposed. Emma folded her legs up underneath herself, her shoulders slightly hunched, but there was an unmistakable lean in his direction, like she drew strength from his closeness. She laid her hands on his thigh, bracing herself for the words she had so carefully prepared all afternoon.

 

“I’m broken, Killian.” Emma stated matter-of-factly. “I don’t do relationships. I have trust issues. I can’t even cry. I’ve been on my own so long I’m not even sure I know how to be with another person. I don’t know how to be anything else other than _this_ ,” she gestured with her arms down the length of her body.

 

Killian’s heart sank into his gut. All the hope he had clung to seem to be wrenched from his grasp. But he listened in stunned silence for her to finish, still never giving up.

 

“But when I’m with you…” Emma smiled and shook her head, bemused.

 

Killian exhaled a deep breath of relief, the wind fully returning to fill his sails.

 

“When I’m with you, I feel... _more_. Like there’s more to life than what I’ve been living. I feel more like myself around you than anyone else.”

 

“And I, you,” Killian replied through a wide grin. “I had forgotten who I was, gotten so lost. But finding you was like finding myself, some part of me that had always been missing. I know it's only been these few days, but Emma, I can't imagine my life without you in it.” Killian lifted her hands to hold them in his, tracing patterns with his thumbs. He stared intently into her eyes. All of his forethought and preparation was cast out of his mind in an instant, any words he could conjure seeming grossly insufficient. He hoped she could read the words he couldn't yet say through his eyes. Somehow, he was assured in her green depths that she could.

 

“So what do we do?” Emma thought for a moment and offered her theory, plowing through it before she could stop herself. “We each commit to flying back and forth as much as we can, and then lets say in six months we hit a wall. And we start to feel the tension, we know this isn’t going to work, so we start fighting because we don’t know what else to do. And then after a long, tearful, on your end, phone call, we just say goodbye. That’ll be it, for real. It’s not like we’ll ever bump into each other. And then what’s left? Two miserable people feeling totally mashed up and hurt.” She gave Killian an imploring look, waiting for either his agreement or rebuttal, but at least her cards were all on the table. “I’ve never gotten close to anyone since my last foster family. I always felt like a lost little girl who never mattered to anyone, so I never let anyone matter to me. But you, your heart is so open and you’ve lost everyone, and I couldn’t live with myself if I let you down.”

 

Killian’s smile grew more crooked as he shook his head and chuckled. “Your outlook is incredibly depressing.”

 

“I know…” Emma whimpered.

 

“I have another scenario for you,” Killian offered, straightening his posture and gripping her hands more firmly.

 

“Good,” Emma sighed with relief.

 

Killian could feel courage bubbling up from somewhere deep inside and without questioning, seized its brief appearance and barreled headlong into the truth. “I’m in love with you.” Emma’s eyes grew wide, but Killian continued before she had a chance to interject. “I apologize for the blunt delivery. But as problematical as this fact may be, I am in love with you. And I’m not just feeling this because you’re leaving, and not because it feels good to feel this way, which by the way it _does_ , or _did_ before you went off like that. I can’t figure out the mathematics of this, I just know that I love you.” He chuckled in spite of himself. “Can’t believe how many times I’m saying it. And I never thought I’d feel this way again, so that’s pretty phenomenal. I finally know what I want, and that in itself is a miracle. And what I want is you.” His heart momentarily lept into his throat while he anticipated her response.

 

“I wasn’t expecting _I love you_ ,” Emma’s voice wobbled with shock.

 

Killian’s features wilted and his heart relocated itself in the pit of his stomach.

 

“Can you not look at me like that, I’m trying to think of the right thing to say,” Emma begged.

 

“I think if the obvious response doesn’t immediately come to you, we can just…” Killian slumped further down on the couch, reaching up to scratch behind his ear. “We should talk about something else. Like, possibly, what a complete arse I am. I do recall you promising me you wouldn’t fall in love with me. Must pay better attention,” he chastised himself. He lowered his gaze to the floor, his chin dropping to his chest.

 

Emma’s heart pounded against her ribs, processing Killian’s words. Not out of fear, or panic, but of elation. She had no doubts about Killian’s ability to share his heart with someone, but when admitted out loud, in no uncertain terms, that _he loved her_ , she wasn’t struck with guilt or anxiety as she anticipated she would. What was the most startling was how _not scared_ at all she was. Emma had always had an uncanny ability to tell when someone was lying, and what she saw in his eyes when he uttered the words was unbridled, unabashed truth. And suddenly she wasn’t scared anymore. She realized the prospect of losing Killian Jones altogether was far scarier than any other scenario. All trepidation in her heart was assuaged. She knew whatever happened, come hell or high water, they would face it together.

 

Emma slowly rose to her feet. Killian deflated momentarily as she moved away, but he lifted his head to meet hers as he realized she was only repositioning herself. She leaned in on one knee beside him on the couch and swung the other knee astride his lap. His jaw slackened slightly, eyes scanning her features, trying to read her next move. His hands instinctively went to her hips, like they gravitated there on their own accord. Unsurprisingly, a perfect fit.

 

Emma poised her hands on either side of his jaw, tracing his scruff with her thumbs. “I’ve never met a guy that talks the way you do. You say the most fitting things, that just perfectly…” She paused, assembling some sort of verbage that could come close to summarizing. Words were not her strong suit, her fumbled speech making that abundantly clear, reinforcing her point. “It’s like you’re actually inside my head, you say the things I’m thinking before I’ve even put them to words. But could you just for now...be quiet. Please.” She brushed her lips over his and with a satisfied moan from Killian, she deepened the kiss. She hoped she could convey all of her unspoken emotions, make up for her failure with words.  By the way Killian’s grip tightened around her, hands sliding under the hem of her shirt and splaying his fingers across her back, she was assured her message was received.

 

~~~

 

86 floors up, Liam felt like a king, his queen by his side, gazing upon their realm below. Atop this marvel of engineering, the astonishing view of the city below gave him courage. The world below wasn’t intimidating or threatening, it could easily be conquered, and nothing would stand in his way. Nothing down there, or anywhere, would be formidable enough to keep him from Elsa.

 

He draped his arm around her shoulder and they walked the perimeter of the observation deck, Elsa pointed out the different landmarks, including the ones they’d visited together so far. They even shoved their pride aside a snapped a few cheesy touristy selfies. Elsa made a mental note to snap more pictures in the coming days. She knew the time was rapidly approaching when pictures and mementos would be her lifeline. Which is why she didn’t care one bit when they framed a perfectly good picture, and at the last second before the shutter snapped, Liam turned his head and pressed a wayward kiss to her cheek. Crowds of people be damned, that photo was a keeper.

 

After taking in the full scope the Empire State Building had to offer, dinner became the most pressing matter at hand. A spirited discussion of a multitude of options landed them in Chinatown at Elsa’s favorite dim sum spot. There were very few patrons speaking English at their tables, and the menu was a complete mystery. Elsa was familiar with a few items, but they enjoyed playing culinary roulette, ordering things together without any expectations of what was to come. Without knowing the names or ingredients of most of their selections, it was all delicious and there wasn’t a bad choice in the lot.

 

They left the restaurant completely stuffed, but their sweet tooths would not be denied. They walked off a bit of dinner on their way to a trendy new ice cream sandwich shop. The ice cream was rich and the cookies were fresh baked. Elsa went with the classic chocolate chip walnut with vanilla and Liam ordered some chocolate mint confection consisting of crispy chocolate cookies and peppermint ice cream. They decided to walk with their desserts, the warm summer breeze complimenting their cold sweet treats.

 

Liam was beginning to fall in love with New York, how each neighborhood seemed to hum with a different energy. He loved seeing the famous sights and landmarks with Elsa, but he would be content to aimlessly walk miles of sidewalks, discovering and exploring little treasure troves of the city. It was like these little delights they stumbled upon together were theirs alone, their own private city experience that they shared with no one else.

 

Without even realizing it, they had walked all the way back to the apartment. The night was still young, but they couldn’t conjure a better plan than cozying up inside.

 

“I’ve been impressed with how well you’ve been taking these stairs. Most people who aren’t used to a 5th floor walkup are huffing and puffing by the time they get to the top,” Elsa remarked, half a flight up.

 

“Oh, just because I don’t have your practice at it doesn’t mean I’m not up for the challenge.” Liam quirked an eyebrow at her, throwing down the gauntlet.

 

“You’re on,” Elsa replied with a smirk and launched herself up the next flight with lightning speed. Her agility was no match for Liam’s wide stride, leaping two steps at a time. His incremental gains were slow at the turns, however, and through fits of chuckles, Elsa was able to slip under his arm as she rounded the corner on the inside and overtake him on the next flight. Liam anticipated this move on the 3rd floor landing and planted his arm firmly on the handrail. When Elsa went for her signature slip past him, Liam’s other arm came around her body and he twirled her out of the way, unceremoniously lifting her off her feet and planting her back down behind him. He released his grasp with a triumphant cry and dashed up the next flight.

 

Elsa would not be outdone on her own home turf. She bounded up the last few flights with acrobatic skill and unprecedented swiftness. She closed the gap and was shortly on Liam’s heels as they scaled the last flight. His overeager pace came at a cost, and his last ascent was not nearly as fast the others had been. Elsa seized this opportunity for a sprint to the finish and was able to swerve around him and crash into the apartment door with both hands splayed out to steady herself.

 

“I...win…” Elsa panted. She rolled on her shoulder so her back was pressed to the door, leaning fully into it for stability.

 

“Aye...you’ve bested me, lass…” Liam conceded, equally winded. He lumbered his way up the final steps and did not stop until he reached the finish line at the door, to which Elsa was conveniently an obstacle. She stared up at him wide-eyed as she caught her breath.

 

She had no idea how enticing she was, and he was powerless against it. He pressed into her as close as he was able in her braced state and drew his arm around her waist, pulling her closer. He leaned in with a hard and powerful kiss that knocked them both back against the door for support. One hand planted on the door, the other curled around the back of her neck, tracing the contours of her jaw with his thumb. She molded her body into his, her arms sliding around his trim waist and up the broad planes of his back.

 

Already winded from their foot race, the kiss didn't last long before they both had to break for air.

 

“Inside?” Liam managed between gasps, her forehead still pressed to Elsa’s.

 

“Yeah,” Elsa agreed. She blindly dug for her keys and somehow managed to produce the correct one. She pressed one last kiss to Liam’s lips before separating far enough from him to twirl around and reach the deadbolt.  Once inside, Elsa was still needing to catch her breath, for more reasons than one. “Do you want something to drink? Glass of water or something?”

 

“Love some, thanks,” Liam returned with a grin, feeling parched himself.

 

Elsa went to the kitchen and filled two tall glasses with water from the fridge and plopped in a few ice cubes. She already was downing hers as she handed Liam his glass. The ice water left a refreshing chill down her throat. She couldn’t tell which had heated her up more, the race or the kiss. Setting down her glass, her eyes were glued to Liam’s throat as he consumed his. She swallowed in response, trying to regain her focus.

 

Liam’s awareness was never far from Elsa, so of course he caught her staring as he drank. He was feeling refreshed and a little bit bold, so on the end of his sip, he slipped an ice cube past his lips and put the glass down on the counter. He visibly toyed with the ice cube with his tongue. A wolfish grin sprawled across his face when he watched Elsa’s eyes grow wide, and her own tongue dart out to moisten her lips, undoubtedly involuntarily.

 

“Are you sufficiently cooled down, love?” He asked, after sufficiently melting the ice in his mouth. Under Elsa’s unflinching gaze, the flush blooming in her cheeks suggesting the contrary effect was taking place.

 

“Yeah,” she lied. She was in fact warming up from the inside out. She reached up to nonchalantly feel the sweat beading on the back of her neck.

 

“Here, let me help you with that,” Liam replied, ignoring her obvious fib. He fished another ice cube out of his glass and sauntered over to her, fully entering what was left of her small bubble of personal space. He cradled the ice cube between his fingers and caressed the back of her neck.

 

Elsa gasped at the the icy sting, but the sensation turned soothing as her hot flesh melted the ice on contact. She felt a drip cascade down the length of her spine. Her eyes fell shut as she lolled her head down with a soft moan, giving Liam better exposure.

 

With his other hand, Liam drew her braid towards him, over her shoulder and out of the way. He craned his neck over hers and gently blew a cool breath over the melted ice water clinging to her neck.

 

An unbidden mewl of satisfaction escaped Elsa’s lips as goosebumps arose from her skin, and not just on her neck where she felt cool and refreshed. She intuitively tilted her neck to one side as Liam brought the ice cube down around the other. He traced down her pulse and into the slope of her collarbone, following the slippery trail with hot, wet kisses.

 

Her hand flew up to grasp at his hip, closing what little space remained between their bodies. He lifted his head as he felt an absence of ice in his fingers, the entirety of it melted by Elsa’s scorching ivory flesh. Before he could even focus his gaze, she rose up on her toes and crashed her mouth into his. Her free hand came around his neck, the other curling her fingernails into his back, aiming to draw him as close to her as possible. She shivered as his muscles flexed under her grasp, a deep moan from Liam’s throat raising a new wave of goosebumps.

 

Their flurry of hands and mouths was ceased abruptly when Liam drew his lips from hers, grasping her shoulders with determination. “Lass, I am afraid I may need to stop.”

 

“Why?” Elsa whimpered with more desperation than her pride would admit.

 

“Because if we continue down this path, I may lose the willpower to stop. You have no idea how completely irresistible you are. God, Elsa, kissing you is so intoxicating, I just…” Liam paused for breath, feeling the edges of his control beginning to fray. “I’m running out of reasons to say no.”   
  
“Then don’t,” Elsa urged.

 

“Sorry?”

 

“Don’t say no.”

 

Liam searched her face in disbelief, in awe of his fortune that this woman’s affection was so clearly laid before him. Her eagerness was evident by her desirous grip on his frame and her pleading darkened pupils. His last shred of decorum piped up as he rapidly reached the point of no return.

 

“Lass, I don’t want you to feel pressured. We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”  
  
“I do want to. Liam, I’ve wanted to since I saw you come out of that shower.”  Elsa scanned her eyes down his chest and relived how completely dumbstruck she was when she first laid eyes on him, his chiseled figure glistening, barely made decent by a hastily draped towel. But his allure was so much stronger now. Her initial infatuation with his handsome visage paled in comparison to the full blown passion she felt after getting to know him, learning his heart, catching glimpses of his soul. “I don’t want this because I’m afraid of you leaving, but rather because I know that you’re staying. Even if we have to spend some time apart for a while later on, I want to be with you, not for fear of losing you, but for how much I want you, to keep you.”

 

Liam couldn’t suppress the grin on his face as he leaned down and pulled Elsa into a deep embrace. She giggled a sprightly laugh and threw her arms around his neck. Before she could register what was happening, he had lowered his grip on her and grasped his elbows behind her thighs, hauling her up off the ground completely. She instinctively linked her ankles around his waist, muffling her shrieks of delight into his neck as he carried her to her room.

 

This time there would be no goodnight kiss at the door. Liam adeptly managed the doorknob while still supporting Elsa’s weight and kicked it closed behind him.

 

 


	10. Chapter 10

 

Before her eyes even opened, a smile blossomed across Emma’s face. Her consciousness had barely sharpened into focus, but the pleasing, tender embrace of Killian’s arm across her waist and sound of his gentle breathing was reassuring and satisfying. More than just being an objectively wonderful way to wake up, it was the knowledge that this was the first of many mornings to come waking up beside him.

 

On previous mornings thus far, her typical flight response had kicked in. She accepted the moment as a fantasy, something ephemeral, in complete denial of her actual feelings.  Now, after their heartfelt admissions of the previous night, Emma was assured that this thing between them was real and worth fighting for.

 

She laced her fingers through his and tightened his grip around her and relished the feel of his solid chest against her back, perfectly nestling into the curve of his body. She felt the rumble of a soft moan against the back of her neck.

 

“Morning, love,” Killian breathed into her hair, his accent even thicker with sleep.

 

“Morning,” Emma replied softly, not regretting waking him one bit.

 

Killian cracked his eyes open and assessed his surroundings, details slowly revealing themselves one by one. Emma’s smooth, lithe form fully nested into his from tip to toe. How her grasp on his hand flexed and tightened when they spoke. The warm rays of daylight bathing her in an ethereal glow. The room was so brightly illuminated, he wondered how long they’d slept in.

 

“What time is it?” Killian wondered aloud, mainly for curiosity’s sake. It didn’t really matter. He certainly was in no way motivated to break their contact any time soon.

 

Emma reached out with her free hand to tilt the alarm clock so she could read it. “Almost eleven.”

 

“Bloody hell, I can’t remember the last time I slept this late. You’re wearing me out, lass.” Even though she couldn’t see his face, she could hear his smirk.

 

“Well, maybe we should refuel then. Breakfast?”

 

“Your appetite in the morning really is something to behold, Swan. Is the first thing you think about when you wake up always food?”  
  


“Not always…” Emma purred, twisting her body in his arms. She peppered his neck in soft kisses, trailing up the curve of his throat and tracing his jaw. She made her way up to his mouth and placed one firm, passionate kiss to his lips before planting her hands on his chest and pushing herself up off him.

 

Killian whimpered, craning his neck to chase her mouth before she pulled out of reach. Bloody siren knew exactly what she was doing.

 

“But I _am_ hungry, so I’m going to go get the tea started,” Emma chirped. She slid out of bed and rummaged through her duffel bag to grab some pajama pants and a tank top. “Uh, I don’t think I have anything for you to wear that will fit you,” Emma lamented, hoping to reciprocate Killian’s gesture from their morning on the boat.

 

Killian propped himself up and reached for his boxer briefs on the floor. “That’s okay, I think I still have some old stuff in the closet.”

 

Emma was way too intrigued. She bounced across the room and flung open the closet door. A few old t-shirts were hanging tucked off to the side beside some winter coats, mostly with logos for sports teams she didn’t recognize, and a few soft plaid things folded on the top shelf that she assumed were pants. She reached for a few and tossed them to Killian, still sitting on the edge of the bed.

 

“Are all of these yours?” Emma asked.

 

“Aye. I leave some things here in case of emergencies or unexpected...visits.” Killian looked down toward the floor with a half-hearted smirk as he dressed. Proven by the night they met, Killian wasn’t hugely proud of the circumstances under which he usually slept at the house.

 

Emma scanned the closet, her curiosity too piqued to not give it another glance. Her eyes widened as she moved some coats aside. “And is this yours too?”

 

Killian’s face lit up with astonishment when Emma turned and produced a rigid black guitar case from the depths of the closet.

 

“I can’t believe that’s still in there! I thought Liam would have cleaned out my old room by now and sold most of it all.”

 

“So wait, this is _your_ room?” Emma asked, bewildered. She knew that he had lived here, but now she was flooded with visions of a lanky, teenaged Killian with unruly fringe (she saw the pictures of that phase) picking away on a guitar, perched on the very bed they had spent their nights together. Surrounded by the same walls, the same sounds, the same sunlight.

 

“Aye. Spent lots of time in here as a moody teenager. I remember looking out the window as I played, dreaming that the lyrics that came out of my mouth would one day have meaning,” he replied, wistfully.

 

“So wait, you _sing_ too? Oh this I have to hear…” Suddenly Emma’s interest in breakfast was waning. This newfound aspect of Killian’s hidden talents was far too enthralling. She planted the case in front of him insistently.

 

Killian begrudgingly acquiesced, unable to deny her imploring face and enthusiasm. He laid the case on the floor and flipped open the lid. The old acoustic was in remarkable condition cradled in the plush red lining, obviously very well loved and cared for.

 

“I’m sure this thing is horribly out of tune. Bear with me a moment.” Killian began to tinker away, plucking the strings and adjusting each of the tuning pegs. For the next few minutes, the room was filled with repetitive sounds of each string being played and tweaked until he found just the right pitch. He seemed deep in concentration, and Emma felt a little bit helpless. She should at least do something instead of just eagerly hovering over him.

 

“I’m going to go start the tea,” Emma offered. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed his cheek before leaving the room.

 

From the kitchen, she could hear each string getting closer and closer to sounding like Killian was pleased with it. She waited for the kettle to boil and selected a tea bag for each of their mugs. Impatiently waiting for the kettle to click, she snatched it up as soon as the heard the sound then poured the hot water. Adding their splash of milk and a tiny amount of sugar (she loved that she was beginning to learn Killian’s morning beverage preference), she brought the steaming mugs in hand back to the bedroom. As she entered, she heard the melodious chords and strumming of a song she faintly recognized.

 

Emma placed Killian’s mug on the nightstand and plopped herself down against the headboard, settling in as Killian’s adoring audience. She grasped the warm ceramic with both hands and blew softly on her tea before taking a tenuous sip. She swam in the harmonies and strum patterns as he played, trying to identify the vaguely familiar song. Her heart swelled and her smile grew as he began to sing.

 

_When the road gets dark_

_And you can no longer see_

_Just let my love throw a spark_

_And have a little faith in me_

 

Killian could have picked one of a million songs in his mental music catalog, but this was the first to come to mind. As he serenaded her with each chorus and verse, he couldn’t hide the look of dawning understanding of an old tune he was sure was written all over his face.

 

Killian’s blue stare bore straight into Emma’s soul as he sang, especially when he practically purred the spoken third line in the next verse.

 

_When your secret heart_

_Cannot speak so easily_

_Come here, darling_

_From a whisper start_

_To have a little faith in me_

 

The particularly poignant bridge had Emma clutching her tea to her chin, a breath catching in her throat.

 

_You see time is our friend_

_'Cause for us there is no end_

_And all you gotta do is have a little faith in me_

 

Killian strummed out the closing coda as Emma considered the weight of those words. _Time. No end._ Normally this notion would terrify her, the notion of a future with someone that she cared so deeply for. But the way Killian said the key word in the chorus each time made her believe a little bit more. _Faith_. But faith for her also meant _trust_ , something she had always struggled with. Trusting herself, trusting others. Watching this mesmerizing man across from her on the bed, it was impossible to deny that she trusted him implicitly. Their future was unknown, but it wasn’t scary. Whatever they would face, whatever the obstacles that lay ahead, she knew they could tackle anything - _together_.

 

Emma set her mug on the nightstand and launched herself forward, throwing her arms around Killian’s neck and kissing him deeply, careful to suspend herself over the guitar perched on his lap that was sandwiched between them. She sat back on her haunches and reached for Killian’s tea. As she handed it to him, she didn’t even try to stifle the splitting grin that had taken up permanent residence on her face.

 

“You’re really talented,” she marvelled.

 

“Nah, just an old hobby. I’m a little rusty, but it’s amazing how it all comes back, like muscle memory.” Killian modestly took a sip of his tea, deflecting her compliment. “Are you still hungry? I could put this down so we can prepare something.”

 

“How about we just move this concert to the kitchen? I’ll take care of breakfast, you just keep doing what you’re doing. Don’t let me stop you,” Emma insisted.

 

Killian settled into a chair in the kitchen and lovingly cradled the guitar on his knee. He performed various highlights from his well-practiced repertoire, which Emma discovered consisted mostly of 80’s tunes. Some were pretty faithful renditions, some were more folksy departures from the originals. Emma floated through her motions concocting a decent batch of scrambled eggs. She broke into a full out dance when Killian began his acoustic jam version of Free’s “All Right Now”. She bopped through the kitchen, throwing in the occasional twirl and waving a wooden spoon in hand.

 

Killian suppressed his grin just enough to maintain the ability to enunciate the lyrics, but his efforts faltered once Emma started to dance. He belted the lyrics through a wide grin, and it only seemed to enhance her enjoyment. She bounced and twirled back and forth between tending her eggs on the stove and popping some bread into the toaster. Killian wasn’t sure who between the two of them was more entertained.

 

Emma sashayed towards the table with two plates in hand. She set one in front of each of their chairs and dashed back to the kitchen to return with the butter and jam. Killian set the guitar down on the floor beside the table, and they sank into their breakfast eagerly. The musical interlude had delayed their preparations, and by now they were both quite ravenous.

 

“I must say, love, these eggs are magnificent. How did you perfect such a culinary skill?” Killian mumbled between bites.

 

“It wasn’t that hard, really. Every time I screwed up an omelette, I just abandoned my efforts and mixed it all up with a fork. Turns out I’m terrible at omelettes, but the upside is now I can make a mean scramble.”

 

“See? You are capable of optimism, Swan. You should try it more often.” Killian asserted with a smug grin.

 

“Shut up and eat your eggs before they get cold,” Emma teased with a playful swat to his arm.

 

They devoured the rest of breakfast almost embarrassingly quickly. Killian demanded he put the music on hold so he could help with cleanup. There wasn’t much of a mess so they made quick work of the few dishes and pans.

 

“What are your plans today? Do you have to work?” Emma asked, wiping her hands on a dishtowel, the last of the kitchen mess.

 

“Nope.” Killian sauntered over towards her, pinning her between himself and the counter. He laced his fingers at the small of her back and continued, craning closer and closer to her neck as he spoke. “I called in some favors with some work mates and they covered me today. When you texted last night, I wanted to make sure my schedule was pretty clear, so that I would have no reason to leave you.” He planted a hot, open-mouthed kiss to her pulse point.

 

“So, day’s wide open, huh?” Emma squeaked out, her concentration failing. She was glad for the stability of the counter behind her, but she firmly held on to Killian’s waist just in case.

 

“I’m all yours, love.” Killian’s answer to her question had an unmistakable undercurrent of sincerity. He kissed a trail contouring her jaw, across her face making a brief stopover at her lips, then down the other side of her neck.

 

“Well, before we waste this beautiful day…” Emma could barely eke out the words, but a soft gasp interrupted her speech when Killian’s mouth reached the shell of her ear.

 

“I’d hardly call this a waste of time, darling,” Killian murmured, barely above a whisper, but the rumble of his tone sent a ripple down Emma’s spine. “And you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, so whatever the day has to offer, you put it to shame.”

 

If he wasn’t so damned earnest about it, there was no way Emma would believe this kind of talk. But somehow, from Killian’s lips, in that voice, it just seemed to _fit_. She mustered the last of her willpower and placed a soft hand on his chest, establishing the slimmest separation between them. Their noses barely brushed, but it was far enough to maintain the distance she needed to say her piece.

 

“Well, this we can do any time. It’s gorgeous out, I have to go back to New York soon, and I haven’t spent nearly enough time on the beach.”  
  
“And whyever might that be?” Killian asked in jest, his eyebrow arching up his forehead. _Smug bastard._

 

“Distractions,” Emma answered pointedly. “Come on, what do you say to a beach day?”

 

“Well, I wouldn’t turn down an opportunity to see you in a bikini again…”

 

Emma playfully smacked his chest and made her best attempt to wriggle from his grasp. Her efforts only made him tighten his grip. She protested with gleeful shrieks and struggled fruitlessly to free herself from his arms. “Come on! We’re wasting daylight!”

 

“Alright. As the lady commands,” Killian conceded. He released his tight embrace, and Emma tossed him a coquettish smile before turning towards the bedroom to change.

 

Killian dutifully followed. While Emma was grabbing her swim suit from the hook on the back of the bathroom door, Killian rifled through some more old belongings in the closet. He managed to dig up an old pair of swim shorts. Killian joined her in the bathroom and sidled up alongside her at the sink. He reached in the cabinet below where _of course_ he had a spare toothbrush. The two wordlessly motioned through their morning preparations, and Emma couldn’t deny how much she actually enjoyed the domesticity of it all, like they had done this dance a thousand times.

 

Emma packed her beach bag as she had before, two towels this time, and slipped into her sandals.

 

“Ready to go?” She asked from the front door, eager to make the most of the day with the person by whose side she most wanted to be.

 

“After you, love,” Killian requested, soon joining her. He chivalrously hauled up the beach bag from where it sat by Emma’s feet. “I’ve got this, if you get the door. Lead the way.”

 

Emma rolled her eyes at his unnecessary gesture. Being a gentleman was one thing, but she was fully capable of carrying a damn beach bag. But she decided to let him have this one- perhaps she could snatch it off his shoulder while they were walking when he least suspected it. Either way, it was going to be a fun day.

 

~~~

 

Liam glanced around the dim, early morning surroundings and studied some of the details he hadn’t had the wherewithal to notice the night before. He chuckled that in his short time in New York, he had spent his nights in two different lass’s beds. The night in Elsa’s was significantly more enjoyable than his solo stay in Emma’s guest accommodations. He was starting to pick up on the differences between the flatmates. Emma’s decor style was eclectic and seemingly more of an assemblage of bedding, furniture, and artwork acquired over time with little regard for design.

 

Elsa’s bedroom looked highly curated with simple but deliberate purpose. A few art prints hung in thin frames. Her bedding was a pale sky blue, and the softest he had ever felt. The pillows had cream colored lace trim, adding a contrasting but still delicate texture. The duvet was solid blue, a slightly darker shade than the sheets, over which was draped a cream, hand-knit afghan at the end of the bed. The warm honey colored wood of the headboard, along with the matching nightstands and dresser, beautifully set off the cool colors of the linens. Simple, elegant, meaningful. So reflective of the precious woman who currently laid nestled into his chest.

 

Liam dropped a soft kiss to her hair, which had since been unbraided and lay beautifully draped across the pillow. She was so beautiful like this, not that she wasn’t any other time. But seeing her so serene, so at peace, warmed his heart, and he hoped he could savor this moment as long as possible. Her soft brown lashes lay against her ivory cheeks, her face completely softened and devoid of all concern. Her graceful hand lay delicately across his chest, and he hoped he wouldn’t wake her with the intense beating of his heart.

 

Elsa emitted a low groan in response to the buzz of her phone on the nightstand. Instead of rolling away to check it immediately, she nuzzled deeper into Liam’s chest and hugged her arm around his body, expressing no urgency to leave her current position.

 

“S’early…” Elsa mumbled.

 

“Do you want me to see if I can reach it? I’d hate to do disturb her royal highness in such a state.” Liam offered.

 

“Mmm-hmmm,” Elsa wordlessly replied.

 

Liam stretched his free arm to reach the phone. “Here, love.”

 

“You look. Tell me if it’s important enough to move, because the stakes have to be pretty high right now for me to move from this spot,” Elsa stated defiantly without even cracking an eye open.

 

Liam was touched by this gesture of trust and read the notification. A few new emails, but he recognized the name of one of the senders as one of the places Elsa had dropped off a job application. A summer camp run out of a local school.

 

“Looks like one of the jobs you applied for might have gotten back to you.”

 

“Oh, that’s wonderful,” Elsa delighted lazily. She yawned and stretched, deeming this news urgent enough to move, but not hastily so. She squeezed Liam tightly as she stretched, flexing her body into his. Her eyes fluttered open and she glanced up at him. He was staring down at her dreamily, his curly brown locks tousled from sleep, but looking no less dashing. She craned her neck up to kiss his lips, which he happily obliged. “Good morning.”

 

“And good morning to you, love. Here, do you want to see what it says?” Liam offered, handing her the phone.

 

Elsa scrolled through the email. A colleague from her school who also worked at the camp gave her a reference, so she was fast tracked through the hiring process. “I got the job!” she chirped. It was already a few sessions into the summer program, so she wasn’t surprised that they wanted to fill the counselor jobs quickly.

 

“That’s great news!” Liam was genuinely happy for her, but a twinge of melancholy crept into the back of his mind. The time of having Elsa all to himself would soon pass, and he would have to share her again with the rest of the world. It was inevitable, of course, and he would never so selfishly stand in her way. Especially because the whole objective of getting this summer job would be to support her upcoming involvement with her sister’s wedding.

 

“Yeah, it is. They want me to start next week.” Elsa propped herself up to gaze down at Liam. “Which is perfect because that means we get to spend the rest of your time here together.”

 

Liam smiled in awe of the mesmerizing woman above him. Her hair fell loosely around her face and cascaded down her shoulder, nearly reaching his chest. He couldn't decide which was more stunning- her poised, coiffed style when she put herself together or when she was mussy, unkempt, and completely fallen apart. Her natural beauty shone through any way she presented herself. He did appreciate that this disheveled, vulnerable look was only for him and would treat it with the reverence it deserved. He leaned up threaded his fingers through her hair and pressed a passionate kiss to her lips. She arched into it deeply and he felt as if he may devour her on the spot.

 

He reined in his impulses for the more responsible decision to get up and going, partly because if he gave in, they wouldn’t leave the bed all day. The other contributing factor was he wanted to make good on his promise to make breakfast. He broke from the kiss and brought his hand around to trace her jaw.

 

“Well, perhaps we should make the best use of our time then.” He realized how his words sounded as soon as they were out. Elsa clearly received his unintended innuendo and she chased his lips to steal another kiss with a smile. “...For which we will need energy,” Liam added, pulling away only far enough as was necessary to speak. “I’ll go whip us up some breakfast, you take your time and join me in the kitchen when you’re ready.” He planted a parting kiss to her forehead and swung his legs over the side of the bed. He groped for his clothes on the floor and slid into his boxer briefs.

 

Elsa spread out and stretched like a snow angel under the newly spacious blanket. She watched as Liam tossed her a warm smile before returning to his room, bundle of clothes in hand. He was probably off to change, so she should return the favor and tidy herself up a bit too. She slid out from under the covers, swathed herself in her lavender robe, and padded across the hall to the bathroom. Before flipping on the shower faucet, she could hear the closing of cabinets and the clanging of bowls on the counter. Whatever he was preparing, it was certainly involved.

 

Teeth brushed and a hot steaming shower later, Elsa emerged from the bathroom in her robe towel drying her hair. The moment the door opened, she was hit with a warm aroma that instantly overtook her senses. She practically floated into the kitchen to follow its source, and found Liam with a smudge of flour on his forehead, oven mitts on his hands, and prep utensils everywhere.

 

“Are you...baking?” Elsa wanted to be sure what she was seeing was actually happening.

 

“I thought it would be nice to share with you a little piece of home, so I made a batch of scones. My mother’s recipe, actually. I hope that’s alright,” Liam dipped his head sheepishly and scratched as best he could behind his ear, despite the oven mitt.

 

“ _Alright?_ It smells amazing!” Was there no end to Liam’s secret skills? If that wasn’t enough to floor her, Elsa observed that he didn’t seem to be following a printed recipe, so she presumed he was doing the whole thing by memory.

 

“I hope they turn out that way. They’re best with clotted cream and jam, but we could made do with butter instead.”

 

“What is clotted cream?” Elsa had never heard of it, but Liam had excellent taste and wouldn’t steer her wrong.

 

“Something no scone should ever be experienced without. Back home it just comes in jars at the market. I wonder if you could make it…” Liam removed the oven mitts and searched for a recipe online on his phone. Sure enough, there was a recipe that should work. “We could make this. It won’t be quite as good as the real thing, but it will do in a pinch.”

  
“Can I do anything to help?” Elsa offered.

 

“Shouldn’t take but a moment. The scones have a bit more to go in the oven, so I can just whip this up while they finish. You relax. Here,” Liam handed her a steaming mug of coffee, prepared just to her liking.

 

“Careful, you’ll spoil me. I may never let you leave.” Elsa teased with a coy smirk from behind her cup.

 

“Would that be so bad?” Liam retorted, more sincere sounding than he had intended. Normally he was much more composed and far less impulsive, but there was something about Elsa that just brought his raw honest truth rocketing to the surface, unwilling to be contained.

 

Elsa returned his question with a non-verbal answer in the form of a sweet smile, which was certainly enough for Liam. She gathered up her towel and left to go hang it back up to dry. When she returned, he was already busy with the measuring cups and various ingredients from the fridge for the newfound recipe. She perched herself on a stool and propped her elbows up on the counter.

 

“You’re sure there’s nothing I can do?”

 

“I’m sure you could, I have no doubt in your capability, lass. But I want to do this for you, so you can just enjoy.” Liam was whipping his concoction in a bowl viced under his arm. The impressive speed and strength with which he was wielding the whisk was a very enjoyable sight indeed. Elsa took a sip from her coffee to do something else with her mouth besides letting it fall to the floor.

 

The timer dinged, and Liam set the bowl down to re-equip the oven mitts. Elsa leaned over the counter impatiently to catch the first glimpse. What Liam pulled out of the oven made her mouth water, if the aroma filling the air hadn’t already. Atop a baking sheet sat a dozen golden cylinders of dough baked to perfection.

 

“Those look amazing,” Elsa marvelled, wide-eyed.

 

“They have to cool for a bit. It’ll give me time to finish whipping this into submission.” Liam resumed his impressive whisking stance and returned to his efforts with the clotted cream.

 

Elsa could resist no longer. She leapt from her stool and strutted into the kitchen as nonchalantly as she could. She innocently made it seem like she was gathering utensils and dishes to set the table, but tried to sneak a fresh scone on the sly. Keenly aware as ever, Liam saw this move coming a mile away and darted in between her thieving fingers and the cooling rack.

 

“Patience, love. They have to cool so they can set up. If you picked one up now it would be too hot and just fall apart. I promise they’re worth the wait.” Liam scolded playfully.

 

With an over-dramatic pout, Elsa grabbed the plates and silverware and made her way to the table.  After setting the table, she returned to the kitchen and poured them each a glass of orange juice in addition to their coffees.

 

With the clotted cream prepared and the raspberry jam retrieved from the fridge, Elsa did her best to abstain from further subterfuge and parked herself at the table. Liam piled the warm scones high on a plate and delivered them to the table. He must have caught his reflection in the microwave because he had since removed any stray flour from his face.

 

Elsa eagerly grabbed a pair of scones with as much of her table manners intact as she could muster. She pried them open, and a puff of steam was released from the inside.

 

“I find it best to spread the jam first, then the clotted cream right over top. You get a good, smooth mix that way,” Liam advised. “At least, that’s how I’ve always done it.”

 

Elsa took note from the obvious expert and followed his lead. As she watched him, she imagined how many countless breakfasts he must have had similar to this one with his mother and brother back home. She imagined a young Liam eager to help out but still managing the same flour smudges on his rounded cheeks. He had told her a great deal about Brighton, about his family. She knew how close he was with his mother, so the significance of sharing her recipe did not go without notice.

 

Elsa took her first bite, and her hand flew up to cover her mouth before moaning out, “Oh my god. That is delicious!”

 

“I’m glad you like it.” Liam beamed proudly.

 

“Oh it’s more than that. That might be one of the best things I have ever tasted. Your mother really knew her stuff.”

 

“Aye, she did. Mine pale in comparison to hers. I remember her trying to surprise us with a batch a few times, but the smell would give her away and we’d come running. She was incredible, my mother. You would have liked her.”

 

“I’m sure I would have.” Elsa’s voice softened with reverence.

 

They finished breakfast sharing childhood stories. Liam shared a few less-than-dignified stories about Killian, and Elsa felt bad for laughing without the younger Jones present to defend himself and share his side. She got the impression that they were very close, a sibling bond she wholeheartedly related to.

 

She told him about the one anniversary that she and her sister Anna tried their hand at making their parents breakfast in bed. A few charred slices of burnt toast later and various spills and splatters strewn about, they managed to bring their well-presented tray to their sleeping parents. Elsa offered to let Anna carry the tray, but unfortunately, doing so blocked her sister’s view of the throw rug, on which she tripped and sent the tray flying through the air before their parents’ eyes were even open. She remembered how Anna sobbed, feeling terrible and guilty for messing everything up. But true to her nature, Elsa comforted her and assured her that it would be alright. She certainly hadn’t done it on purpose, and she assured her sniffling sibling that their parents would be just as happy with a bowl of cereal instead.

 

Liam’s eyes sparkled as Elsa spoke of her family. It was obvious that Elsa would do anything for her sister and loved her deeply. He certainly understood the _protective older sibling_ instinct, one that never really goes away. Of all the things they had in common, he loved that that was one of them. The more he learned about her, the more he wanted to send her sister flowers for being the catalyst that sent Elsa home early and into his life.

 

“So, what’s on the docket today, lass? Now that you have to go to work on Monday morning, how do you want to spend the last few days of your summer holiday?” Liam asked, after loading the last of the dishes into the dishwasher.

 

“It’s a surprise…” Elsa lilted with a teasing raise of her eyebrow.

 

“Is that so?”

 

“I promise you’ll like it. Just wear comfortable shoes. We’re going to do a fair amount of walking. And make sure you have plenty of space on your phone. I’m guessing you’re going to want to take lots of pictures.”

 

Excited and intrigued, Liam scooped Elsa up in his arms and kissed her deeply before setting her back down.

 

“What was that for? You don’t even know where we’re going!”

 

“I just can’t wait, is all. It doesn’t even matter, as long as we’re together.”

 

If he was this excited about the surprise, she couldn’t wait for him to find out what it was. They parted ways to dress for the day. Elsa donned some cuffed shorts and a billowy button-up top. The long sleeves were helpful for sun cover but the gauzy fabric would be breezy and cool. She hoped her boat shoes wouldn’t give her away, but she wore them anyway. She couldn’t resist.

 

After a quick wash up, Liam changed into a blue plaid shirt and navy shorts and slipped on his most comfortable shoes as instructed, his leather boat shoes. When he emerged into the hall, he nearly staggered when he saw Elsa standing by the door, nose buried in her phone browsing a map. He would have been curious to try to sneak a peek at her plans, but he was too stunned by her ensemble to move. She looked gorgeous in everything she wore (and nothing at all), but there was something about the unmistakable nautical motif that just struck a chord within him.

 

Elsa glanced up from her phone, satisfied with her navigation. “Ready?”

 

“Aye,” Liam managed. The two left the apartment and walked hand in hand a few blocks to the bus stop. The ride wasn’t terribly long, not that he would complain about any stretch of time where he got to sit close to Elsa. He didn’t even mind it when the standing passenger in the aisle beside them drifted over every time the bus jostled or turned, causing Elsa to practically duck into his arms. He would never tire of being close to her.

 

They disembarked at Elsa’s requested stop and stepped onto the curb. There was a white concrete landmark on the corner resembling a lighthouse. As they approached, Liam could read the lettering on it that read _South Street Seaport Museum_. His gait almost bordered on skipping with excitement, his enthusiasm only matched by Elsa’s, as illustrated by her eager pulling on his hand down a pedestrian road.

 

The distinct sound of seabirds and lapping waves got louder as they approached the pier. Liam’s mouth nearly fell agape as a towering four-masted tall ship came into view, stationed proudly in its berth and looking wholly out of its time.

 

“I thought you’d like it.” Elsa chirped proudly. “Its called the _Peking_. Over a hundred years old and among the last of its kind.” Elsa could hear her teacher-voice breaking through and decided to leave the tour to the professionals. “Do you want to go aboard?”  
  
Liam’s eyes grew wide like a kid who had just been told they were getting a puppy. They sprinted to the ticket desk at the visitor’s center and queued up to board. Liam, who already had a height advantage over most of the crowd, was stretching up to his tip-toes and craning his neck to try to scope out the ship while they waited in line.

 

They ascended the gangplank. Stepping onto the ship was like stepping through a portal through time. The ship was a living artifact, a tangible piece of history. The _Peking_ was sailed in the traditional way, as sailors had been for centuries. There was something so vibrant and sincere about sailing completely by manpower harnessing wind, skilled sailors working as a team in unison to accomplish incredible speed and maneuvers. It appealed to Liam’s soul in a deep and powerful way. He couldn’t stop himself from reaching out his hand to graze the weathered teak and the ancient jute rigging as they explored the ship. Touching the ship connected him with something deep inside himself, unlike anything else.

 

After touring the ship, learning the ship’s history, and gaining a more in-depth education on square-rigged sailing than Liam ever hoped to acquire, the sun’s position high in the the sky indicated it was probably lunch time.

 

Elsa suggested they eat at the sandwich shop she spotted on the pier. “We could take our food to-go and eat on the bench, that way you can keep an eye on your ship.”

 

Liam did his best imitation of a scowl, obviously not missing her use of the word _your_ , but he was far too agreeable to the idea to protest.

 

“Thank you for bringing me here, Elsa.” Liam’s words were not necessary to convey his gratitude, his pure joy was written all over his face, and it was all she could have asked for.  But his appreciativeness made her smile nonetheless. “This was quite the wonderful surprise indeed.”

 

“I’m glad you liked it. I thought you might, and I’m glad I was right.” A sense of pride swelled in Elsa’s chest.

 

“As you have been about everything of course, but this…” Liam swung out his arm toward the ship and stared at it wistfully, “This is something else altogether.”

 

“Well, there’s still a lot more to see. We could check out the other ships or the exhibit at the visitors center. There’s a lot more of the museum to see if you’re interested.”

 

“I mean, if you don’t mind. I could spend all day here. I just want to make sure you’re having a good time.”  
  
“The best.” Elsa slid her hand over his on the seat of the bench and gave a gentle squeeze.

 

She didn’t even mind that by the end of the day her legs were screaming with fatigue and she could barely stand. She could withstand anything fueled by her deep and abiding desire to spend every waking moment possibly with Liam by her side. (And every moment spent not awake, if she could help it.)

 

“Well, I think we’ve seen all there is to be seen, lass,” Liam assessed. “What do you say we go grab a drink? It’s a bit early for dinner, but I think I might like to get off my feet.”

 

Liam’s uncanny ability to read Elsa’s thoughts was bordering on frightening, but ultimately she resolved that it was incredibly endearing.

 

On their tour, they noticed an open-air cocktail spot on the next pier over, offering comfortable seating and fantastic views of the water. It also helped that it was incredibly close to their current location, so they agreed it was the optimum choice.

 

They brought their drinks to the deck and collapsed into a pair of adirondack-style chairs. The panoramic view was breathtaking. The Brooklyn Bridge draped across the background, backed by the warm tones of the afternoon sun.

 

Elsa found herself settling into a bittersweet satisfaction. In the few days they had left together, this was a moment that should be cherished because the days were not far off when memories such as this will be what get her through the lonely stretches until she can see Liam again. But for now, he was right there beside her, warm and touchable, and she couldn’t sway the feeling that everything she ever wanted was within her grasp.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (A/N: If you’re interested in a multimedia experience, the version of “Have a Little Faith in Me” Killian plays sounds like this, but in Colin’s voice, of course. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=U4LdPDbhijk)


	11. Chapter 11

The sun was sinking rapidly toward the horizon, signalling the end of Emma’s last day in Brighton. One more night before she was wrenched from her blissful existence with Killian by her side and flung back into her life across the ocean. Even from their beach blanket, just reading her flight information on her phone was a heavy dose of reality that she didn’t want to face. The inevitable truth hit her with a resounding thud as her finger made contact with the check-in button; her time was up whether she liked it or not. 

 

Emma returned her phone to her beach bag and shrugged her shoulders, washed over by a chill that wasn’t altogether due to the dropping temperature.  Killian noticed, which didn’t surprise her in the least, and he wrapped her in a warm embrace, neither of them breaking their fixed stares at the water.

 

“Looks like it might be about time to pack it in,” Killian declared, rubbing her arms up and down to stave off the chill. 

 

“I think you might be right. As much as I want to stay out here forever, I don’t know how warm my bikini and cover up will keep me much longer,” Emma admitted, though still making no efforts to move from their spot.

 

“Aye. While I am quite a fan of this ensemble,” Killian leered and dropped a hand to caress her waist, “I wouldn’t want to send you back having caught your death of cold.” With one last kiss to her temple, Killian climbed to his feet and offered a hand to Emma. She grasped it and stood, then turned to gather up their beach things.

 

The two packed up their belongings, folding up the beach blanket in tandem as if they had folded thousands of linens together. They strolled hand in hand back to the house, discussing what the remainder of the evening might hold.

 

“Okay, one dinner left,” Emma declared. “Any last restaurants or secret spots you want to show me?”

 

“Well, I thought the best way to send you off with the finest local hospitality Brighton has to offer would be to cook you a proper home-cooked meal myself. If you’d be agreeable to that, of course.”

 

“You don’t have to cook for me, Killian.” Emma’s protestations were only half-hearted. The thought of spending one last night home alone with Killian sounded lovely. 

 

“I insist. As proud as I am of my culinary accomplishments in my humble galley, I think the house has much more robust appliances and affords a bit more space in which to operate.”

 

“Done. I can help, if you want,” Emma offered.

 

“No, this is my treat. You don’t need to lift a finger,” Killian affirmed proudly.

 

“Always the gentleman…” Emma sighed, shaking her head with a grin.

 

After they got cleaned up from the beach, it was already on the late side for dinner. But since this was due to their getting slightly carried away in the shower, neither of them cared. They each seemed content with prolonging the evening as much as possible, so neither was in any rush.

 

Emma sat at the kitchen counter with some munchies Killian had laid out while he prepared dinner. They chatted while Killian cooked, Emma watching intently as he moved. He dashed about the kitchen between the oven and stovetop, flinging open cabinets and drawers, pulling things out left and right. She chuckled at his adorable manner of thinking out loud when he was looking for something, probably a habit he developed spending so much time on his own. 

 

“Where are the bloody measuring cups?” Killian wondered aloud to himself.

 

“I’ll grab them,” Emma offered, as she slid from her perch.

 

“Now, Swan. What was the accord?” Killian scolded her, mixing spoon in hand.

 

Emma wordlessly responded by returning to her spot with a coy smile. Killian loved how capable and helpful she was, but this was his treat. He wanted to do this for her at least once before he wouldn’t be able to for quite some time. And if he could watch her fidget a bit while she let somebody else take care of her for once, he got all the more enjoyment out of it.  

 

For the briefest of moments, Emma succumbed headlong into fantasy. She pretended she wasn’t leaving, that this wasn’t some vacation away from another life. She gazed at Killian while they conversed easily, as if this evening was one in a string of a thousand evenings just like it, before and to come. She imagined how they would take turns cooking for one another and even began to contemplate what she would cook tomorrow.

 

_ Tomorrow _ .

 

Just the thought of the word flooded her mind with the reality that came with it. Her reverie shattered like glass and she straightened up in her seat.  _ Keep it together, Emma, _ she reminded herself. The more she daydreamed and pretended, the harsher the reality would be when it finally came crashing down. She was glad Killian’s back was turned as he finished his dinner preparations so he couldn’t see how this dawning realization drained the color from her face.

 

She watched him plate their food and did her best to warm up her smile, hopefully doing a convincing job. 

 

“Dinner is served, love,” Killian proudly stated as he carried their plates to a meticulously-set table (another of Killian’s accomplishments of the night).  

 

He set their plates down and swooped behind Emma’s chair, pulling it out with a flourish. She wouldn’t put it past him if he saw right through her and was trying to lighten the mood. But such pomp was totally within his nature, so either way it was working. She graciously sat as Killian pushed her chair in and then settled into his own.

 

Emma hummed into her first bite. “Killian, this is incredible,” she mumbled, barely waiting to finish her bite before erupting with compliments. “Really, this is amazing.”

 

“I’m glad you like it. The pub food here is pretty decent, and we’ve some nice restaurants, but sometimes, you can’t beat this.” Killian gestured with a circle of his hand to include their food and the comfortable surroundings.

 

Emma couldn’t tell if he was selling or just being earnest, but either way she agreed. Brighton, New York or otherwise, she couldn’t imagine a meal she would enjoy more than right here at the table she had grown so fond of.

 

Dinner conversation continued with pretty light fare, Emma making concerted efforts to avoid topics of any real consequence. Truthfully, she and Killian’s last date together was sounding an awful lot like a typical  _ first _ . Stories about work, childhood snapshot memories, hometown anecdotes. 

 

Killian could sense that Emma had already begun her efforts to pull away from him, but he thought it best not to call her out on it. If amiable, superficial conversation was helping her cope, he wanted to support her in her process. For him, he wanted to wring out every ounce of positivity he could and savor every last moment still breathing the same air as Emma Swan.

 

Emma noticed Killian glancing back at his plate more than he usually did. She hoped her attempts at remaining stoic wasn’t coming off as cold, but her pragmatic sensibility about her departure the next day was the only defense she had from the truly soul-crushing truth of what the next day would bring. She had never met anyone like Killian Jones, never thought she would, and now the prospect of leaving him was a whole new application of her self-protection skills. It was uncharted territory and she was doing her best, hoping he would forgive her for it. When his eyes did glance up to meet hers between bites, she saw understanding confirmed in his too blue stare, and she was relieved.                                          

 

After their plates were impressively clean (Killian was a hell of a cook), Emma stood to clear her dish and moved to gather his. 

 

“And what do you think you’re doing?” Killian quirked an eyebrow at her, lightly laying his hand over hers.

 

“I agreed to let you cook for me, but you didn’t say anything about cleaning up afterwards.”

 

Killian admitted defeat and conceded. He loved how determined she was, loved her strength of character, so when it morphed into stubbornness, he tried not to be perturbed. He loved her all the more for it.

 

Emma allowed him to at least bring her the remaining silverware and glassware from the table as she posted up in front of the sink to begin loading the dishwasher. She whisked up the pans and other cooking utensils as well and diligently scrubbed and prewashed. Emma was effective in her efforts, but her pace seemed to slow by the time she loaded the last glass. Perhaps she was guilty of dragging out the process. Once the last dish was cleaned up, then it was really over. No more dinners together, no more morning cups of tea, no more picnic lunches on the boat. She could already anticipate that every meal she ate without Killian would be tasteless and only make her miss him more.

 

Emma added the detergent and closed her eyes as she shut the dishwasher with a soft click. She released a deep sigh before her hand left the handle. 

 

“Fancy a nightcap, Swan?” Killian proposed. His words were sweet relief to Emma’s ears. 

 

“Oh God, yes,” Emma exhaled, with slightly more gusto than she intended, but she couldn’t find it in herself to care. True to his uncanny nature, Killian seemed tapped directly into Emma’s heart, knowing precisely what she wanted before she even verbalized.

 

Killian whipped up a couple of hot toddies, a variant he concocted using the same rum they had shared the night they met. The warm drinks were perfect for the cool evening that had fallen. Emma gathered a couple of blankets from the couch and they carried their mugs out to the garden. Neither could think of a more fitting spot for a last drink than where they had shared their first.

 

The two sat side by side, blowing over their steaming beverages and taking satisfying sips. Emma relished the way the warmth slid down her throat and heated her up from the inside out. After a long pause and about halfway through her hot toddy, she found the bravery to finally broach the subject she had been avoiding all day.

 

“We’re not saying goodbye,” Emma stated bluntly.  _ Not the most tactful approach, but at least the words are out there. _

 

“No, we’re not,” Killian agreed.

 

“It’s not like we’re never going to speak or email…” Emma could feel herself start to ramble.

 

“Right. No set rules.” Killian concurred, content to let Emma continue on her jag. 

 

“None. We can just figure it out as we go. If we don’t set any expectations, there’ll be nothing to break.”

 

“Always the optimist, Swan,” Killian replied with a smug grin. He knew matters of the heart were not Emma’s strongest suit, so he was happy to let her take the reins. Truth be told, he agreed with the particulars of their plan going forward and thought it was the most promising way to keep Emma Swan in his life.

 

Their mugs seemingly drained themselves and the warmth they provided was starting to wear off. Emma wrapped the blanket tighter around her shoulders, a move not unnoticed by Killian. 

 

“Ready to go in, love?” 

 

Emma could think of only one thing that would make her want to go inside. She rose from her seat and extended her hand. “Take me to bed,” she purred.

 

Killian certainly didn’t argue as he snatched up the mugs in his free hand before following Emma’s swaying lead.

 

Their last night together stood in incredible contrast to their first. While their first romantic encounter had been impulsive and fueled with desire, they savored their last moments together with tenderness and passion that was better than either of them could have ever imagined that first night between the sheets.

 

They drifted off to sleep for the last time in  _ who knows how long _ entwined in a bittersweet embrace. They both loved the warmth and comfort of being so close, but there was an unspoken wishful thinking between them that if they held on long enough, they might just not be torn apart the next day.

 

~~~

 

24 hours. That was all they had left, the unavoidable truth signified by Liam needing to check in for his flight.

 

“Do you want to use my laptop? Might be easier than your phone,” Elsa offered. 

 

“Sure, thanks,” Liam responded somberly . Always helpful and thinking of others, his Elsa, even when he could see the sadness in her eyes.

 

Elsa handed him the laptop from the kitchen counter and watched him settle in on the couch. Watching him lift open the lid, she shifted on her feet and stated, “I’m going to go take a shower,” as she thumbed towards the bathroom. Though their last moments together were precious and few, she could not be party to his preparations to leave. She slipped away, hoping the hiss of the shower would muffle the sound of the tears she had been holding back since this morning. Hopefully after a hot shower and good cry, she would emerge refreshed and with renewed strength to face hardest 24 hours of her life.

 

Liam carefully checked everything about his departure, except for making that last click that would complete the process. He looked up local weather conditions, airport delays, flight status, even baggage policies (even though he wouldn’t be returning with anything he didn’t arrive with, other than a broken heart).

 

Reading things about home, Brighton weather, train times, even inputting his passport number, escalated the churning in his gut. There it was before his eyes, in black and white:  _ Departing New York. Arriving London. _ Images of packed suitcases, a long flight alone and walking into a big, empty house were almost unbearable. 

 

Liam hovered his cursor over the  _ check-in  _ button and a whole new set of images flashed through his mind, stilling his hand. A ferry across the harbor. A blond strand of hair dancing across her forehead. Her elegant profile as she marveled at the sights. Sharing the most perfect dessert he had ever had. Her smile as she licked the whipped cream. The feel of her hand in his at the restaurant when her feelings came pouring out. Her whispered voice traveling up an arched wall. Racing up the stairs in a foot race he was happy to lose. The excitement on her face as she led him through the library and museums hand in hand. All the kisses they had shared both in and out of that very apartment. 

 

Why would he ever want that to end? And what was he going back  _ to _ ? A bartending job and an old, empty house? In an instant, Liam was weighing the pros and cons in his head between his old life back home and this new one that included Elsa. All of a sudden, the solution seemed startlingly, abundantly clear. Liam’s concentration only broke when he heard the creak of the bathroom door and the soft sounds of Elsa padding towards him.

 

Elsa could see the airline website still up on the screen when she emerged from the bathroom in her robe, fingering through her tousled damp hair. 

 

“Are you all set?” she asked kindly, although her voice was unmistakably laced with melancholy.

 

He stared at the screen once more before decisively closing it shut. “Actually, no.”

 

Concerned, Elsa’s eyebrows knitted themselves together, “What’s wrong, did something happen with your flight?”   
  
Before answering, Liam stood and walked around the couch to face Elsa. “Nothing is wrong. In fact, love, everything is right. And that’s precisely why I’ve come to a decision.” He gingerly approached her and softly took her hands in his.

 

Elsa’s breath hitched and her heart pounded against her ribs, unable to speak.

 

Liam took a deep breath before speaking and looked deep into Elsa’s soulful eyes. “Elsa, I love you. And the thought of being apart from you has only grown more and more agonizing as these days have gone by. Now that the time has come to leave, I am wondering why I would ever do such a thing when the only place I want to be is by your side. So, I’ve decided to stay. I don’t want to impose, however. I can rent a place somewhere…”   
  


Still speechless, Elsa launched up on her tiptoes and threw her arms around him in an overwhelming kiss. A wide smile grew across her face and she landed back on her feet. “Of course you can stay here! What makes you think I would ever let you out of my sight if I didn’t have to?” She leaned up to kiss him again, unable to contain the intoxicating mix of joy, relief and adoration. Liam’s arms encircled her thin waist and he lifted her off the ground, twirling her in a circle as they kissed. 

 

But it wasn’t long before questions of logistics popped into her mind. As Liam set her down, she asked, “But what about your house? Your job?”   
  


“I was renting it out for a lot of the year as it was. I’ll talk to Killian, he can manage things for a while. I’m sure he’ll understand when I explain things to him. As for the bar, it was never a career for me anyway, just a job. I think I kept it so long because I always knew I wanted the flexibility to leave it as soon as I found a reason. They will carry on just fine without me.”   
  
“What will you do here?” Elsa was less concerned with the specifics of budgets and living arrangements than helping Liam with the considerations of starting a new life, especially in a new country. He had made her so happy with his decision to stay, she wanted him to be happy here in his own right, free of regrets.   
  


“I don’t really know. I could apply for a work visa while I figure it out. Perhaps your camp takes volunteers? I know places that deal with kids can always use an extra hand. I’ve seen how much you love working with kids, I’d love to give it a try. And you’d be there, so thats a plus.” Elsa’s glowing smile nearly knocked Liam off his feet, but his fluttering heart only hastened the speeding train of thought that came spewing out of his mouth. “Or I could tend bar somewhere. Or walk dogs, or clean carpets, or  _ whatever  _ but it wouldn’t matter because I would get to come home to you every day.” 

 

Rendered speechless once more, Elsa stood agape, processing the full gravity of what she was hearing. This incredible man who had dropped into her life completely out of the blue was now the one person she couldn’t imagine spending a single day without. And here he was, standing before her, professing that he plans to drop his entire life to start a new one with her. All she was able to stammer out was, “Are you sure?”

 

Liam looked deep into her eyes so she could feel the depth of his sincerity. “Elsa, I’ve never been more sure about anything in my entire life.”

 

“I love you, Liam,” Elsa whispered before slowly leaning up to tenderly press her lips against his.  It seemed crazy that neither of them had spoken the words to one another until that moment when the truth of it had been so blatantly obvious. The thrill of Liam’s decision and the dawning of their new life together hadn’t faded, but the depth of their passionate embrace was slow and reverent, each wanting to drink the other in and spend the rest of the day wrapped up in one another.

 

Later that afternoon (Or was it evening? Only the growing rumbles of their stomachs indicated the passage of time), Elsa rolled over and stared at Liam across the pillow, a glisten of sweat across his brow, and his chest still actively rising and falling.

 

“You should probably cancel your flight at some point,” Elsa stated as she regained her breath.

 

“Aye. And perhaps let Killian know I won’t be seeing him for a while.”

 

“And that you’ll get to meet Emma face to face pretty soon,” Elsa chuckled.

 

“Do you think she’ll mind having a new flatmate?”   
  
“I’ll be sure to give you a good reference. Besides, it’s not like you’ll be needing your own room. And I’ll be sure not to leave out what an excellent cook you are,” Elsa teased.

 

“Perhaps I’ll gain Emma’s favor by making her breakfast, too. Worked out well for me in the past,” Liam smirked.

 

Elsa propped up on her elbow, playfully glaring at him, “We should probably straighten up the dress code a little when she’s home, for her sake. Save the toplessness for when we’re alone.”

 

“Like, now?” Liam quirked his eyebrow as he peeked under the sheet, revealing that they were both in the same aforementioned state of undress.

 

“I meant in terms of topless cooking. All bets are off when that bedroom door closes.” Elsa responded with an unmistakably teasing lilt.

  
Liam hummed with delight. “I think I’m going to like this cohabitation thing.” He shifted above her and pinned her on her back in a powerful kiss. Supper would have to wait. They could call Killian later. He couldn’t find himself caring about logistics at the moment. All they needed was each other and right now he couldn’t get enough.


	12. Chapter 12

The walk to the train station was long, especially dragging her suitcase, but Emma didn’t mind. Killian’s hand was tightly clasping hers, a conduit through which she was drawing strength. She didn’t even argue when he insisted on walking her to the train. If she protested out of pride she knew he would immediately see through her. 

 

They approached the turnstiles that signalled where they would part and Emma turned to Killian, unsure of how to even begin the goodbye process. Before she could stumble out her best feeble attempt, Killian looked at the monitors to check the train times.

 

“Your train doesn’t leave for 15 minutes yet. At least let me come wait with you,” Killian urged with insistence.

 

“They won’t let you through unless you buy a ticket,” Emma reminded him.

 

“A small price to pay,” Killian replied sweetly as he fished his smartcard out of his wallet. He tapped his card on the electronic reader, opening the gate. He passed through before Emma could argue.

 

Emma paid her fare with her purchased ticket. When she reached him, he wore his signature self-satisfied grin, which she had grown to find completely endearing. She threaded her fingers through his and they walked at a snail’s pace towards a bench on the platform. Together they sat, as close as possible while maintaining decorum in such a public place. Killian caressed the back of her hand with with his thumb, their interlaced fingers lay draped over Emma’s thigh. She rested her head on Killian’s shoulder, trying to commit his scent to memory.

 

Every time she thought of raising her head to speak, she couldn’t fathom what she would say. Anything that needed to be said had already been expressed. If she elaborated or added any more, it would either be a shortfall of the English language to encompass her emotions or only stand to make her departure more painful. Killian seemed to agree, his usual verbosity quelled. Instead, they savored their closeness on that bench until a loudspeaker announced the approaching train. Emma didn’t hear much. Everything around them registered as background noise right up until she recognized the words  _ arriving 1 minute _ . That’s all they had left.

 

Never breaking their grasp on the other, Emma and Killian both stood from the bench in sync. Emma pivoted to face Killian and grabbed his other hand, feeling its warmth in her palm. As he curled his fingers around hers, she found the strength to look into his eyes one last time.

 

“We’re not going to make a bigger deal out of this than it already is,” Emma stated calmly . Maybe if she kept her tone quiet and steady, her pounding heart may follow suit. So far, no such luck. 

 

Killian desperately searched for the right words to say. When none came, he forced a tight-lipped smile and squeezed her hands even tighter, glancing down at how perfectly her hands fit within his. 

 

“So now I’m just gonna kiss you for the millionth time and say  _ be seeing you _ ,” Emma stated succinctly.

 

Killian’s eyes fell closed as she delicately drew her fingers to the back of his neck, pulling him close. She could feel the softness of the hair at his nape sliding through her fingers as she pressed her lips to his. His arms pulled her body flush against his, both of them unaware and uncaring of who may be watching.

 

The approaching train slowed to a halt. The bells chimed as the doors opened. Emma slowly pried herself away, licking the last tastes of Killian from her lips.

 

“Be seeing you,” Emma whispered.

 

“Take care of yourself, Swan,” Killian breathed out. He could distinctly feel the warmth leaving his body the moment he lost the last bit of contact with Emma’s fingers.

 

Emma shuffled toward the doors and as soon as she crossed onto the train car, she turned to steal one last parting glance. She watched Killian shift slightly on his feet. For a brief moment she thought he might dash onto the train at the last minute, but he refrained.  _ Better judgement prevails, I guess _ . Instead, as the doors closed between them and the train slowly gathered speed, Emma watched through the window as Killian walked along the platform to keep step with her as long as possible. He broke into a jog then an outright run as the train accelerated, and he was only forced to stop when the platform came to an end. Emma chuckled and waved as she looked backwards at Killian waving back at her through heaving breaths until he was completely out of sight.

 

Emma snatched up her suitcase and found a seat. She chose a spot by the window, where she could tuck up her knees and face away from the other passengers without it being embarrassingly obvious how completely devastated she felt. To any onlookers, it would appear as though she was just intently watching the scenery go by, but she couldn’t care less about the view. Her world was crumbling around her. She couldn’t tell if watching every passing mile that carried her farther and farther from Killian was making it better or worse, but she maintained her focus anyway.

 

She tried not to focus on her own reflection. Even she didn’t want to look upon such sadness right now. Heat started to build in her cheeks and her throat began to tighten. She was completely surprised when she felt a warm tear start to well up in her eye. Eyes, actually, she realized, as her vision began to blur. She blinked, and for the first time in what felt like an eternity, tears streamed down her face. She reached up to touch one with her finger and looked at the shimmering moisture in complete disbelief. She barely even remembered what it felt like to cry, but here it was unbidden and unabashed. The corners of her mouth began to turn up and she began to chuckle through her tears.

 

Emma thought she must have looked like a total crazy person to any passers by, going from pensive, to devastated to overjoyed in a matter of moments.  She couldn’t find it in herself to care as she smiled through her sniffles and sobbing. 

 

The last time she cried, she was devastated in a totally different way. She was hurt and betrayed by those she loved most, who she thought loved her in return. Her heart shattered that day. After that, her walls went up, toughening the defenses around her heart so she couldn’t be hurt like that again. And it had worked, until she met Killian.

 

Now, the thing that pained her the most was being separated from the one person who found his way past those walls somehow. He didn’t hurt her through some betrayal of trust or act of malice; she hurt because of his love for her and that she was forced to leave him. She was the one who was leaving. He loved her, and if ever she ever needed an indication that Killian was different, this was it. From the day they met, Emma felt like Killian had awoken something within her, rekindled a long extinguished flame, and now the proof of that was literally all over her face.

 

Emma clambered to her feet and made the made her most impulsive decision to date, even more so than leaving for England in the first place. Gathering up her bags, she posted up by the closest set of doors, drumming her fingers impatiently on the painted handrail. Her body lurched as the brakes were applied and began to slow the train’s approach into the next station, whatever it was. Emma didn’t care where she was, only that it was the next possible opportunity for her to change direction.

 

As soon as the doors opened, Emma dashed past the passengers waiting to board, and through the exits. She fumbled for her wallet in haste and purchased a return ticket, paying her fare for the next outbound train back to Brighton.

 

If she thought her travel to Brighton was long the first time, this one was agony. A transatlantic flight, subways and train transfers had nothing on the short distance between she and Killian now. Emma had a completely different look on her face as she stared out the window this time. Her eyes were bright and wide, her body alert and buzzing with energy. Her toes were tapping incessantly and it was all she could do to not count every tree and building that passed in the distance. Whatever the number was, it was too many.

 

When Brighton was announced as the next station, Emma practically bowled over a few unsuspecting passengers in her mad dash to the door. When the doors opened, she flew as swiftly as she could manage toward the terminal exit and out of the station.

 

Emma was wasting no time. She hailed the closest cab and threw her suitcase into the backseat with her before the driver even had the chance to unbuckle his seatbelt. Through heaving breaths, she instructed the driver, “Marina...Quick as you can...”

 

The cab dropped her off as close to the dock entrance as possible, but Killian’s berth was still a fair ways down. Emma quickly paid the driver and flung her suitcase out with her, slamming the cab door behind her. She sprinted as nimbly as she was able dragging her cumbersome luggage which bumped on every plank of the dock. But nothing could suppress her ear to ear grin the whole way, like a kid running down the stairs on Christmas morning.

 

When she reached the Jolly Roger, Emma ditched her suitcase on the dock and practically leapt aboard. Even if she wanted to, she couldn’t keep from shouting, “Killian! Killian!” 

 

Emma opened the hatch and deftly descended the short ladder into the cabin. She froze in place as she saw Killian emerge from the v-berth with an unmistakable shimmer on his cheek. His eyes were wide with disbelief and she could see him try to process the turn of events. His face was trying its best to express a combination of shock and relief as he scrubbed a hand across his face to clear his eyes. 

 

Killian realized there was no way to save his pride and conceal his emotional state. He shrugged and smiled as he exhaled a deep breath, his shoulders softening. He was flooded with a thousand questions, but none of them seemed to matter at that moment. Emma Swan was standing in front of him, on his boat, when she was supposed to be on a train to a plane that would take her far away from him. Before he had a chance to form some semblance of coherent thought, she was able to catch her breath long enough to break the silence.

 

“You know, I was just thinking,” she started casually, still panting slightly. “Why would I leave before 4th of July? I have off of work anyway and it wouldn’t be hard to move my flight. I mean, you didn’t exactly ask me out, but you did say you loved me, so I’m thinking I’d have a place to stay,” she paused to catch her breath and to steady her heart before adding, “...if you’ll have me.” 

 

“Liam’s coming back so we’d have to stay here,” Killian clarified with a crooked grin, but deeply earnest. Here he stood, heart in hand, offering her all that he had and he hoped that would be enough.

 

“Sounds perfect,” Emma replied with a wide smile.

 

Killian launched forward and kissed her deeply, embracing her like he was never going to let her go. He didn’t plan on it.

 

Held tightly in his arms, tasting his lips on hers, the gentle sway beneath her feet, Emma felt like for the first time in her life, everything was right in the world. She didn’t know exactly what the future will hold, only that this place she’d never been with this man she never expected to meet was exactly where she was supposed to be.

 

~~~

 

Liam and Elsa sat nestled on the couch side by side. They had spent enough time in their euphoric isolation, but now it was time to call home and face the world. They propped the laptop up on a stack of books on the coffee table to be the proper height. Liam playfully attempted to distract Elsa by kissing her jaw and nuzzling her neck while she adjusted the angle of the screen. Through a fit of giggles, she tried her best to fix the framing of the webcam while the call was dialing Killian.

“Hi, Killian!” Elsa exclaimed animatedly, alerting Liam it was time to straighten up. He immediately cleared his throat and poised himself with an almost innocent looking poker face. The call connected but Killian’s video feed hadn’t popped up yet. When it did, she was surprised to see a familiar blonde nestled closely beside him. “And Emma! I thought you were flying home today?”

 

“Slight change of plans,” Emma replied. Elsa noticed her wide grin that her friend seemed powerless to stifle. Whatever happened, she was happy for her, but there would be time for questions.

 

“Lovely to finally meet you, Elsa,” Killian greeted. He bowed his head in that same way Liam did and she wondered who got it from whom. Either way, she still found it adorable.

 

“You as well,” she returned.

 

“Well, speaking of changes in plans, that’s actually why I... _ we _ ...called,” Liam’s voice was imbued with confidence. “I’ve decided to stay here with Elsa.”   
  
“Oh?” Killian replied, sharing an uncanny look with Emma. “For how long?”   
  


“Indefinitely, actually. Elsa and I have only spent this short time together, but it’s all the time I needed to know that I never want to be apart from her again. I love her, Killian, and she’s here in New York so this is where I need to be.” 

 

Liam looked over at Elsa, who was gazing at him adoringly with those wide blue-gray eyes. His heart swelled and his words came tumbling out in spite of any composure or pride he could have hoped to retain in that moment. 

 

“She’s everything I never knew I was missing in my life. She’s incredibly kind, compassionate, intelligent, and she’s bloody beautiful. I feel more like myself with her than I ever have alone or with anyone else. It’s like my whole life up to this moment has brought me to meeting her.” With considerable effort, Liam retrained his attention from Elsa back to Killian. “I’m only at the house when guests aren’t there. Otherwise, I’m traveling aimlessly all over the place. And I don’t need to keep working at the bar, I can do that anywhere. I feel like I’ve been on some sort of journey, exploring and traveling the world, leading me to exactly where I was supposed to be, and that place is here.”   
  
As he lifted his arm around Elsa, she was already brought to the brink of tears by his words. He had said similar things to her, of course, but to hear him profess his love for her so profoundly to Killian, his brother and only family, touched her heart especially.

 

Realizing how much he must have just embarrassed himself in front of the girls and his little brother, Liam had to resist the urge to reach up and scratch behind his ear. But once he noticed Killian and Emma exchanging knowing glances at each other following his declaration, his self-consciousness melted away. 

 

“I can see how the right person would make you feel that way. I’m happy for you, Liam,” Killian replied with veneration.

 

“And I’m happy for you, Elsa!” Emma piped up.

 

“I have you to thank for sending him my way!” Elsa gleefully replied.

 

“Only sort of! I rudely forgot to tell you I was letting a handsome British stranger sleep in our apartment.”

 

“Handsome?” Liam and Killian inquired simultaneously, though Liam’s tone was more curious where Killian’s leaned towards incredulous.

 

Emma looked back and forth between Killian and the brother on the screen. “Well, you have to admit, you Jones boys sort of have a  _ thing  _ going on…” She trailed off when she could see Elsa vehemently nodding in agreement.

 

“Too right, lass. And thank you,” Liam politely replied. 

 

“And you both clearly have a taste for blondes,” Elsa added, piling on the similarities between the brothers.

 

“Don’t I know it,” Killian reposted with a raise of his eyebrow, earning a smirk from Emma.

 

“So, Killian, we’ll have to work out some details about the house and things, but there will be time for that. Fortunate that I got a chance to talk to you, Emma, so you now have advance warning that I’ll still be here when you get home.” Liam had to admit, the timing of the phone call was kind of perfect. He hadn’t expected to catch her before she left for the airport.

 

“Actually, I’m really glad you’re both there, because I’ve made some decisions too,” Emma stated decisively.

 

Elsa leaned in slightly, eager to hear what Emma may be referring to, especially with the advice she had imparted to her friend when last they spoke.  

 

“Liam, I’m not worried about you crowding up the apartment because...I’m staying here too.”

 

“That’s great, Em! Until when?” Elsa chirped.   
  
“After 4th of July,” Emma replied. “Or there’s a bank holiday in August that Killian has off, we’re still not sure. Maybe longer, I don’t know. All I know is I’m not ready to go yet. There’s something special here and I just…” She trailed off and glanced at Killian, hoping to find words to describe what Killian had awakened within her. She only succeeded in getting distracted by his face, so she stated simply, “I just know I want to be with him so I couldn’t bring myself to leave.”

 

Elsa was endeared by Emma’s determination, conveyed by the warm sincere tone she had never heard before. Elsa knew better than most how guarded and calculated her friend had been in the past when it came to relationships. This new impulsive person she saw on the screen made her proud, one who clearly took her advice and opened her heart to love.

 

“I am so happy for you, sweetie!” Elsa chirped. “I’ll miss you, but I’m happy. Truly.”

 

“Thanks, Elsa,” Emma replied. “Really, thank you.” The women knew what she was really thanking Elsa for. With her encouragement, Emma found the strength to stop letting fear control her life and truly start  _ living _ . And now she was about to do just that with Killian.

 

All the while Emma spoke, Liam was absorbing her words while watching Killian. He could see the adoration in his brother’s eyes and the tenderness in his body language. He was unsure he would ever see that look on Killian’s face again, concerned he had closed off his heart for good. Liam had always hoped the right person would come along to redirect him from his dark and lonely path, and it seemed he had found that in Emma. He couldn’t hope for more for his little brother.  Based on what he knew of Emma so far combined with Elsa’s deep affection and respect for her, while his protective instincts may never fade completely, he knew he could trust her with Killian’s heart.

 

“Killian, I’m glad to see you so happy,” Liam acknowledged.

 

“You too, brother,” Killian returned. 

 

“Well, if you guys need anything, just give us a shout. Let’s talk again soon, okay?” Elsa said.

 

“Sounds good,” Emma answered.    
  
The four of them exchanged goodbyes and waved at their respective cameras as Elsa reached forward to end the call. 

 

She collapsed back onto the couch and leaned into Liam’s shoulder. He kissed her hair and let go a deep sigh. He had gone into the call preparing to share all the momentous decisions he had made about his life, hoping his brother would understand. Only to find that not only did he have Killian’s full support, but he seemed to have found a love of his own with Emma. He didn’t know where things would go for the two of them or how all four of their futures would unfold, but his heart felt full and he couldn’t be more content.

 

“Well, my concern about Emma’s thoughts regarding my extended stay seems to be a non-issue,” Liam pointed out.

 

“Yeah, she’s clearly happy where she is, and I’m happy where you are, so it’s a win-win.” Elsa sat up to meet his eyes. “I’m really glad she’s giving things with Killian a fair shake. They both looked really happy.”

 

“Shame though, I was already planning on making her a  _ welcome home  _ batch of scones.”

 

“I’m sure we’ll find an excuse to make scones. I have to say, I’m not complaining it’s just us. Plus, now you can feel free to walk around the apartment a little more…” Elsa paused to scan him up and down hungrily, “... _ relaxed _ than if she were here.”

 

Liam raised a keen eyebrow. “Aye, like the day we met. Well, look at the effect my liberated state of dress had on you! I’d hate to complicate things by sweeping another blond American lass off her feet.”

 

Elsa scoffed and swatted him playfully across the arm. Even though her indignant response was completely contrived, Liam loved seeing his poised and put-together lass get all flustered.

 

“Oh, that’s it,” Liam replied defiantly with a predatory grin. He launched forward and mercilessly began tickling Elsa’s most sensitive spots he knew would render her helpless. One of his arms flew to her waist and the other gripped the top of her thigh just above her knee. He only felt a little guilty exploiting the weaknesses that he had inadvertently discovered over their time together, but all’s fair in love and tickle fights.

 

Elsa erupted into shrieks and giggles, flailing helplessly in Liam’s powerful grasp. Her only defense was to fight fire with fire. She wrenched one of her arms free and dove straight for his ribs, which his offensive maneuvers had left completely vulnerable. He asked for it, he should have known she knew his body as well as he knew hers.

 

Liam yelped as he jerked back his arm, allowing Elsa a brief respite. Liam had now lost the advantage and Elsa stood a chance at a fair fight. He may be stronger, but she was nimble. 

After that it was hard to tell who had the upper hand amid the flurry of limbs and tumbling pillows. 

 

At some point, the balance shifted in Liam’s favor again once he was able to pin Elsa on her back. She tried her best to wriggle free, but he had both her hands pinned with one of his above her head and the other braced on her thigh. He stilled above her and they both tried to catch their breath, eyes fixed on one another in a challenging stare. Liam couldn’t help notice how Elsa’s arched back and hard breathing caused her chest to rise and fall in the most enticing way.

 

Elsa knew she was completely defenseless while pinned down, but from her perspective, she couldn’t care less. Liam’s strong, broad shoulders were completely flexed and she could see his entire musculature through the tightness of his shirt. His firm grip on her thigh made her wish his hand would travel a bit higher. And just as the thought popped into her head, she felt his hand caress up the length of her thigh. He didn’t remove his grip on her hands, only leaned down to kiss her deeply. She arched even further, bringing her body in full contact with his. 

 

Elsa didn’t know when Emma would be coming back, but she was grateful they had they apartment to themselves. Liam’s deep moans of pleasure filled the living room, which inspired Elsa’s in kind. Liam was right, she was really beginning to like this cohabitation thing. Logistics be damned, if she got to come home to Liam every day and be wrapped up in him every night, she couldn’t ask for anything more for their life ahead.

 

~~~

 

“Well, I knew that Liam was quite taken with the lass, but I wasn’t expecting that!” Killian sat back on the settee after saying goodbye and ending the call. 

 

“Neither did I! But they really must have found something special. I’ve never seen Elsa smile so much!” Emma replied, just as bewildered as Killian.

 

“I was worried the stubborn arse didn’t even have it in him. Turns out, just takes the right person.” Killian looked pointedly at Emma. She smiled sweetly, clearly catching his meaning. “He was so closed off for so long, I’ve never heard him talk about anyone the way he talks about her. And did you see the way he looks at her? I’ve never seen him so sincerely happy in my life. Must thank Elsa for opening him up to that.”

 

“And Liam too! Elsa always puts everyone else before herself, she barely even registered on her own list of priorities. I’m glad she allowed herself to be happy, and I think I have Liam to thank. For that, I will be forever grateful.” 

 

“I’ll let him know you said that. Whenever I see him next, that is. Who knows when that will be.”

 

Emma thought about that for a moment, the timeline of events. “So, do you think Liam would mind if I stay in the house a while longer?”

 

“The house?” Killian asked resentfully. “What makes you think I’m letting you off the Jolly Roger? Nobody disembarks without the captain’s permission.” He waggled his eyebrows at Emma.

 

Emma firmly planted her hands on her hips to deliver her response. “Well,  _ Captain _ , with your  _ permission _ , I’d like to take you back to the house with me, if you’d be agreeable to that. You have to admit the living quarters there are a bit more spacious to allow for more…” she paused to bite her lip seductively, “... _ athletic _ activities. And that old bathtub was quite luxurious for one, I’d like to see how it feels for two.”

 

Killian’s pulse began to race, but he didn’t want to jump the gun. He had only just gotten Emma back. As appealing as that plan sounded, he needed to know more before he got his hopes up. Sober thoughts entered his mind. “And then what? What happens next?” he asked in a slightly more serious tone.

  
Emma’s voice was earnest, but with a hopeful, light-hearted twinkle. “I don’t really know!” She shrugged and chuckled at how completely at peace she was with that notion. “This whole plan is just kind of coming together as I go. So for once in my life, I have no idea and I don’t really care. All the important pieces are in place and the rest is just details.”   
  
“Well then,” Killian stood up, reengaging the teasing, swaggering, smug persona that Emma found completely endearing, “Let’s get you off this ship before this pirate takes you prisoner. If the princess demands a luxurious bath back at the castle, then so it shall be. I would be honored to accompany you, and to attend to any other needs you may have.” He bowed before her and swung his arm out to escort her toward the companionway.

 

Emma stood and bent her knees in a mock curtsy. When Killian straightened up again, she cupped his jaw and spoke in a breathy whisper, befitting of her sincerity. “All I need is you.”

 

“And I, you,” he returned. 

  
She kissed him tenderly and the two ascended the ladder. The daylight reflected like glitter across the water, shining bright on a brand new day together, the first of many to come.


	13. Epilogue

_6 months later_

 

Elsa’s sister could not have chosen a more picturesque setting for a December wedding; it was the quintessential winter wonderland. Anna and Kristoff had chosen a stunning farm in Vermont as the venue, the warm wood and soaring ceilings of the barn perfectly framed the scenic mountain view through the sunny windows. They had been blessed with a fresh snowfall the night before so the white blanket outside literally sparkled and only added to the beauty of the day. The ceremony went perfectly. It was heartwarming, uplifting and authentic to the bride and groom, neither of whom stopped smiling during the entire thing.

 

Elsa was very proud that all their hard work and preparations went off without a hitch. The reception was beautifully decorated, all of their centerpieces and decor perfectly setting off the winter motif. The white, lilac and powder blue color palette elegantly accented the dark wood of the barn. The entrance and first dance had been flawless, save for Kristoff’s two left feet stepping on Anna’s delicate toes a few times, but she laughed it off and didn’t seem to mind one bit. All the guests found their seats, toasts were made, and the first course was about to be served. She could see Anna’s wide eyes surveying the room for the first real time as they sat down for dinner, clearly awestruck. Seeing the bride that pleased made Elsa feel proud and accomplished in her duties as Maid of Honor.

 

The bride and groom sat at a sweetheart table at the head of the room so they were within full view of the guests, which was not hard to do with a guest list of less than a hundred. The bridal party sat at the closest table with their respective dates. Elsa was delighted that Anna allowed her input on this matter, so she could make an exception and seat Emma and Killian at the table, too. Besides the bride, Elsa and Liam were the only people they knew at the wedding so Anna was more than happy to accommodate her friend.

 

Elsa was pleased that her sister was the type of bride that didn’t sweat the details. Anna just saw the bright side of everything. If something didn’t work out or she didn’t get her way, she would just find the next thing to get excited about. At the end of the day, she was just happy to be marrying Kristoff and Elsa couldn’t hope for more for her sister.

 

Emma usually wasn’t one for weddings. Too much fuss and to-do only to end up drinking alone, or being hit on by some tipsy groomsman. Weddings only made her face the reality of her lone wolf existence and how such love and companionship may not be in the cards for her. But now, Emma didn’t even remember what that felt like. Now she looked around the room, completely surrounded by love (including her own), and she couldn’t be happier. Holding Killian's hand under the table, she first glanced at Elsa and Liam, the two so wrapped up in each other they seemed not to notice anyone else in the room. Then she looked over towards the sweetheart table at Anna, so blissfully happy with her new husband, laughing and feeding each other bites from off of each other’s plates. New visions of flowers and white dresses started to creep into her mind, but she shooed them away for now. Not because such thoughts were unwelcome, far from it, but rather she felt selfish dreaming about her own wedding while attending someone else’s. She could tuck that variety of daydreaming away for another day.

 

Liam turned to Elsa to speak, but the candlelight accentuated her beauty in that moment such that he was caught off guard and had to take a deep breath to drink her in. The light music that played over dinner wasn’t overly loud, but he leaned in close anyway. Partially because he habitually looked for any excuse to be close to her, but also because he felt a magnetic pull towards her in that icy blue bridesmaid dress she and Anna had picked out together. It was strapless with an enticing neckline (called a _sweetheart neckline_ , he learned) with a thin crystal belt and flowing layers of shimmering organza that offset every sway of her hips when she walked. The bridesmaids all had white fur shrugs they wore for the ceremony, but they had long since removed them thanks to the heaters, for which Liam was very thankful. He placed an arm around the back of Elsa’s chair and spoke.

 

“I thought your speech was wonderful, darling.” Liam dropped a kiss to her bare shoulder. “Heartfelt and sincere, with just the right amount of humor.”

 

“Seems all that concern was for nothing, huh? I was still nervous, but all the rehearsing helped. Thanks for listening to me practice it a thousand times.” Elsa smiled sweetly. As he always did, Liam galvanized her in a way that no one else could. When the DJ had handed her the microphone, she shook with nerves, but when she looked over at Liam he winked and smiled in that way that always warmed her heart and soothed her soul.

 

“Glad to help in any way I can, love,” Liam replied.

 

Actually, Liam helped a great deal in bringing this extraordinary day together. In the months leading up to the wedding, Elsa was constantly wrapped up in email chains and conference calls with some combination of Anna, her mother and the other bridesmaids. At first he would just offer moral support, keeping Elsa company while she pored over vendor reviews, color swatches and all the other minutiae necessary to pull off the perfect wedding. In six months. He hated to see her so stressed, but the mantle of Maid of Honor was heavy, especially when the bride is your only sister. He offered a few kind suggestions and solutions here and there early on, and before he knew it, he was fully engrossed in things he never knew he had an opinion on, such as fonts for invitations, ribbons for guest favors, even hairstyles for the bridesmaids.

 

In the early trips home, Elsa found herself talking about Liam _a lot_ , which only fueled more questions from her mother and sister. She was more than happy to answer them, and extol his skills and excellent taste when it came to wedding planning. By the time the bridal shower came around, Anna had specifically requested Liam’s attendance. She was so incredibly eager to meet him by this point that she begged Elsa to bring him on her next visit. Elsa couldn’t turn down a request from the bride, plus her mother came up with a great idea of how to use him for the shower. He was tasked with bartending, making the ladies expertly-crafted cocktails until the games and gifts began. His next duty was to keep Kristoff occupied for the evening while Anna celebrated with her female friends.

 

Liam got along well with almost everyone he met, but he seemed to hit it off with Kristoff exceptionally well. Their fast bond, of course, did not go unnoticed by the sisters and it pleased them to no end. The night of the shower, they ended up at some sportsplex that was showing an important football match on television (“ _Proper_ football,” Liam insisted, “Not the ridiculous game that you Americans tout as ‘football’.”). The evening became a lively debate between American and European sports and ended at the batting cages, where Kristoff challenged Liam to see if he could hold his own at a real American sport like baseball. The two began razzing each other and having such a great time that they completely forgot to keep score and they agreed to a gentleman’s draw.

 

When they returned that night (in a taxi, thankfully), the girls were in stitches at how the boys barely stopped to acknowledge them and continued carrying on together like they were old friends. They continued uninterrupted from the front door all the way out to the back deck to share one last beer for the night. It was while Liam and Kristoff were occupied that Anna had first started calling Liam her “Man of Honor”, which delighted Elsa to no end. It was the first of many times Anna used that phrase, right up to the rehearsal. Even though he wasn’t officially in the wedding party, by this point he was basically family and was accepted by all as such.

 

Elsa noticed Emma and Killian were engrossed in a conversation of their own, but she had barely talked to them all night. She waited patiently for a polite break, but Emma must have sensed this and eventually broke open the conversation to include Elsa as well.

 

“How does it feel to have this all done with now, Elsa?” Emma gestured to the big room, the achievement of months of work.

 

“Honestly, I’m relieved. With the wedding is behind me, I can finally relax. But now that I’m on the other side of it, I can’t believe you’re leaving so soon!”

 

Emma couldn’t believe it either, but she couldn’t wait. She had worked it out with her boss so she could stay in Brighton until Labor Day, during which time she could work on her cases remotely. It was mindless paperwork, but she was happy to do whatever allowed her to stay with Killian longer. Eventually she had to go back to New York, but with the promise that when she returned, she would return for good. The weeks they spent together brought one inevitable truth into brilliant clarity - a life without Killian Jones was no longer an option.

 

The whole reason she had gone on vacation in the first place was because her job was burning her out, and frankly, disillusioning her on people in general. Meeting Killian had opened her eyes to how much more she could get out of life, so it would be a welcome change. While she enjoyed New York, she never really considered it home. Now, the only home she could imagine was with Killian, and he had a well established home in Brighton, so the choice turned out to be no choice at all. She would never ask him to give it all up for her, even though she knew he would in an instant, and she was actually looking forward to starting a brand new life with him across the ocean.

 

In the autumn months living back at the apartment (with the addition of Liam as a roommate), Emma put in her final notice, closed out her remaining cases, and began packing up her life in New York. The familiar process of packing her worldly possessions into boxes and suitcases was old hat, a practiced routine from her life in foster care and her adult life that followed. But this time, the life on the other side of this move was the brightest and most hopeful she had ever experienced.

 

Emma was very grateful for the time she spent back home to wrap things up, and was glad for the time to get to know Liam fairly well. Beyond his charm, sincerity, caring and humor, she loved seeing him and Elsa together. It was adorable that they tried to keep their PDA to a minimum around her, but she was way too observant to miss their little touches, glances and whispers. Liam obviously cared deeply for Elsa, and Emma was glad to see her friend open her heart to him in return. She was clearly leaving her closest friend in the world in excellent hands.

 

“I know, me too! I’m going to miss you so much, but I think you guys will be glad to have the apartment to yourselves again,” Emma replied with a knowing eyebrow raised in Liam’s direction.

 

Elsa and Liam instinctively shared a conspiratorial look, exchanging an entire conversation without words, one that could be summarized as _if she only knew_. Then Elsa’s look fell to the table and she squeezed Liam’s hand. She looked forward to the day when it would be just the two of them again, they just had one more separation before there would be no more time or space between them. It wouldn’t be forever, but when Emma left, he was going too.

 

Liam would be accompanying Emma and Killian back to Brighton after the wedding, a day Elsa had been dreading. He had been in New York for enough time getting by with the original contents of his duffel bag, plus the few boxes of belongings that Killian shipped, but they both agreed it was time to wrap things up for good. It would only be for a short time, but they had gotten so spoiled that any time apart was far too long, especially if there was an ocean and several time zones between them. But if anyone could sympathize, it was Emma and Killian. It would certainly be good to be surrounded by people who could relate to their trials. The distance would be a challenge, but the love and strength they shared assured her they could do anything together. At least Liam would have Killian’s support while he was away, his brother’s love for Emma as inspiration and a reminder of what he had to look forward to when he returned to New York.

 

Elsa shook out of her preoccupation and turned back to Emma. “So how is the new job working out?”

 

“Great! All my paperwork has been finalized and I start the Monday after we get back!” Emma replied. Elsa hadn’t heard her so enthusiastic about a job in a very long time. “Turns out they have degenerates and liars everywhere, even posh marinas.”

  
“‘ _Posh’_. Listen to you, going native already! I’m so proud,” Killian ribbed, nudging his shoulder into hers. Killian was thrilled when he was able to help her get the job working security at the marina. She would still be using her skill set, but with the promise that her day-to-day would be much more tame. There would certainly be less chasing down scumbags and a lower risk of unsavory physical altercations than her last job, which he would be lying to say that aspect wasn’t reassuring.  

 

“Well, when the next guests arrive to stay at the house, I don’t want them too disappointed to be hosted by an American.” Emma returned, which earned her a warm smile from Liam.

 

Liam was glad Emma and Killian planned to keep the house up for holiday rental. He was proud that she and Killian intended to continue to share their childhood home and their mother’s legacy with travelers.

 

Emma was looking forward to hosting their first guests in a few weeks. She and Killian had a long discussion about what to do with the house once Liam vacated permanently, and how that might impact their living arrangements on the Jolly Roger. They found a perfectly balanced agreement that they would move into the house more permanently, but still rent it out as a vacation home and live on the boat during the guests’ stay (unless they booked the occasional home exchange and took advantage of a romantic getaway). Emma was looking forward to meeting and hosting families from all over the world. The idea of nesting gave her a sense of permanence that she never had, and while it was a new feeling, not at all unwelcome.

 

“Don’t worry, brother, we’ll make sure to share your list of local highlights with every traveler that passes through the door. We won’t forget a thing,” Killian assured. “And how’s your _other_ love doing these days?”

 

“She’s gorgeous as ever, thanks for asking,” Liam replied, of course referring to the _Peking_. As it turns out, his affinity for historical ships and his mostly unused degree in maritime studies made him an excellent candidate for work in the education department at the Seaport Museum. He first applied as a volunteer, but after looking a bit more into his background and seeing how great he was with school groups, the museum offered him a full-time position. The fall was mostly filled with school field trips during the week, but on the weekends there were tourists from all over the world. He loved sharing his passion for history with visitors and seeing the joy and wonder on their faces that Elsa had shown him that day together.

 

As the four carried on their conversation catching up on the most recent goings-on and discussing their future plans, the servers were coming around to clear the dinner plates. According to the reception schedule, Elsa knew that the DJ would soon make an announcement for Anna and Kristoff to cut the cake, but since the bride and groom were still eating, that was unlikely to happen for some time yet. As the plates were cleared, the guests seemed content to vacate their seats for the dance floor in the meantime.

 

A song began to play that caused Killian’s eyes to drift upward as he listened intently. “I know this…” he mumbled. As he stood and offered Emma his hand, he noticed her eyeing him curiously. “Would you do me the great honor of accompanying me in a dance?”

 

Emma’s unsure eyes darted to the slowly filling dance floor, surveying the couples’ synchronized movements. “Are you saying you know how to do...whatever this is?” she asked with skepticism. She took his hand regardless, trusting him implicitly, a new habit she was happy to have formed.

 

“It’s called a waltz,” Killian answered as they strode towards the dance floor. He poised his arms to lead, Emma fitting into his frame perfectly. “There’s only one rule. Pick a partner who knows what he’s doing.”

 

Unsurprisingly, Killian was an excellent dancer. The two floated across the dance floor as effortlessly as if they had danced these steps for years. Emma wondered if there would ever be an end to the list of secret skills he would surprise her with over time. She looked over Killian’s shoulder and noticed Elsa and Liam expertly whirling around the dance floor as well, the elder Jones possessing a similar level of expertise. She wondered if this was an inherent trait or if they learned from the same shared experience. She made a note to ask Killian about it later, but for now she could not be more content in the arms of the man she loved. She was fully confident that she picked exactly the right partner, feeling all the more lucky because of how unlikely it was that they should have even met. One passing glance toward Elsa and Liam assured her that her friend had picked precisely the right partner as well.


End file.
